The Killing Joke
by Danbidder
Summary: Finally finished. This is for readers who enjoy novels . This is the first story in my version of the Batverse. Reviews, comments, questions on timeline, etc are welcomed and encouraged (good or bad). Special thanks to my wonderful editor Michael, my cheerleader and critic Shannon, and my moral compass Caroline. Your help meant the world to me.
1. Timeline

Timeline:

**Age 10**: Bruce Wayne begins training with Ted Grant in Gotham. Grant trains him in Krav Maga, Muay Thai, boxing, Hopkido, Capoeira

**Age 14**: Bruce quits training with Grant, travels to Kosovo. Meets and becomes the first protege of former Delta operative David Cain, now an assassin.

**Age 16**: Bruce realizes his parents wouldn't want him to be a killer and refuses to terminate his first target assigned to him by David Cain. He leaves Cain. Bruce tracks down John Zatara, a friend of Thomas Wayne, in Europe. Zatara teaches him to be an escape artist and illusionist.

**Age 17**: Bruce returns to America, trains in Mississippi with FBI agent Harvey Harris.

**Age 19**: Bruce travels to North Korea to train with Master Kirigi studying ninjutsu.

**Age 21**: Bruce leaves Kirigi, travels to China to train with CIA agent Willie Dogget, who is tracking terrorist Thomas Woodley in the Rolwaling Himal mountains. Woodley kills Dogget and nearly kills Wayne, leaving him for dead. He is found by the League of Shadows and joins them.

**Age 23**: Bruce becomes Ra's Al Ghul's protege. Once again he refuses to kill an enemy, and is attacked by Ra's and presumably falls to his death. Bruce survives, unaware he has impregnated his lover, Talia al Ghul. Bruce travels to Paris.

**Age 24**: Bruce trains with Henri Ducard. He believes Ducard is attempting to capture terrorist Ali al Hassan. Instead, Ducard kills him. Disgusted, Bruce returns to Gotham.

**Batman: Year One** -

At 25 years old Bruce begins operating as Batman. Batman begins receiving help from Gotham Assistant District Attorney Harvey Dent.

Batman begins receiving help from Lt. James Gordon.

Catwoman debuts.

**Year Two**:

The Joker debuts. Batman stops him but is nearly killed. In desperation, Alfred calls Dr. Leslie Thompkins to treat Batman's injuries. Leslie joins Batman as his doctor.

Batman investigates copycat vigilante Batgirl, who stops Killer Moth. Discovers she is Captain James Gordon's daughter, 15 year old Barbara Gordon. Impressed by her physical and mental abilities, he begins training her without revealing his identity. Barbara is not allowed to be in uniform until training is complete.

While at Haley's Circus together Bruce Wayne, Tommy Elliot, Jack Drake, and 8 year old Tim Drake witnesses the murder of John and Mary Grayson. Batman begins investigating their death and identifies Sal Maroni as the killer. Batman stops 14 year old  
Dick Grayson from killing Maroni. Batman begins training Dick Grayson and reveals his identity. Dick Grayson becomes a ward of Bruce Wayne.

The Riddler debuts.

Mr. Freeze debuts.

Scarecrow debuts.

**Year Three:**

Maxie Zeus debuts.

Harvey Dent is kidnapped and disfigured by Sal Moroni. The media nicknames Dent "Two Face". Moroni is captured by Batman. Dent disappears.

Dick Grayson is formally adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Clayface debuts.

Firefly debuts.

**Year Four**:

Batman reveals his identity to Barbara Gordon. Barbara begins training alongside Dick Grayson.

**Year Five**:

17 year old Dick Grayson debuts as Robin and 18 year old Barbara Grayson debuts as Batgirl.

Dent returns as Two Face, nearly kills Robin.

While on vacation Jack, Janet, and Tim Drake are kidnapped by pirates and held for ransom. The Team attempts a rescue, but Janet Drake is killed during the raid. Tim Drake recognizes Dick Grayson as Robin.

**Year Six**:

Dick and Barbara begin dating.

Mad Hatter debuts.

Joker escapes Arkham Institute with the help of Dr. Harleen Quinzel.

**Year Seven**:

Poison Ivy debuts.

**Year Eight**:

The Killing Joke.


	2. The Killing Joke Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

**EIGHT YEARS AGO**

**COLONEL ROBERT MANTE BUILDING, GOTHAM CITY**

"Are you nervous, Major?" Dr. Patel asked.

"Of course I'm nervous, wouldn't you be?" the major, also a doctor, replied as he opened up the cage. The chimpanzee reached out and put her arms around his neck. He picked her up and held her like a toddler. "Hey there, Suzie. How are you?" The chimp responded with a kiss on his cheek.

The two men worked for the United States Army Center for Chemical Research Institute or ACECHEM, as it was more commonly called. ACECHEM was a subordinate lab of the United States Army Medical Research and Materiel Command (USAMRMC), and a sister lab to the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases (USAMRIID), all of which were run by the Department of Defense.

The official mission of ACECHEM was to develop strategies, products, information, procedures, and training for medical defense against chemical agents. Their labs were used by the FBI, CIA, ATF, and many other federal agencies during investigations. Unofficially they created chemical agents to be used for the special and covert operations community. Poisons, neurotoxins, truth serums and many other types of chemical weapons were created here.

While USAMRIID was housed at Fort Detrick in Maryland, ACECHEM was located in it's own office park on the outskirts of Gotham City. The office park was on ten acres of federal land, housed three research buildings and a cafeteria and employed both military and civilian scientists. Highly specialized support personnel as well as a company of marines for security were also there.

The major carried Suzie over to an examination table and briefly examined her. "She looks healthy, nothing on the charts for concern. I think we're ready."

"Okay, let's do this."

Suzie was taken to a laboratory room and placed her in a different cage. This cage was bigger than the one the chimpanzee was normally kept in. It was also made of clear, durable plastic and had holes for breathing and passing items back and forth.

"It's a shame you won't be able to play Tarzan with her anymore," Dr. Patel joked. The major ignored his comment as he checked the video recording equipment in the lab. "I'm sorry, did I offend you?"

"I just didn't think it was funny," the major said. "Sorry, I just know what this substance will be able to do. Just thinking of it is disturbing."

"At least you won't have to deal with it in the field. I couldn't handle all that up close."

"I've already been up close in the field, just not with this stuff," the major replied. "I know what death can look like."

"Were you a field medic or something?" Dr. Patel asked.

"My MOS was 37F before I got my doctorates. That's PSYOPS." Dr. Patel gave him a quizzical look. "Psychological operations. Basically my job was to mindfuck people. That's all I can say."

"You've never mentioned this before."

"Not something I talk much about. I also have a doctorate in psychology."

"Well, you are full of surprises, Major," Dr. Patel said.

"Guess so. Let's get started."

The major turned on the video recorders in the lab and gave their names as well as the location, time, and date. Dr. Patel walked to a refrigerator in the corner of the room and took out a banana and a syringe filled with greenish liquid. He injected the banana and walked up to the plastic cage Suzie was in.

The major looked directly into the camera lens. "This should be our final test. Dr. Patel and I believe we have finally made the formula stable enough. It can be weaponized as gas, ingested, or injected directly into the bloodstream depending on the needs of the objective. If this works today, we finally are ready. Dr. Patel, will you do the honors?"

Dr. Patel walked up to Suzie's cage and handed her the banana. She grabbed it and began eating the banana whole. Less than ninety seconds after she was done Suzie's facial muscles began to contort. She started to breathe in gasps that were getting shorter and shorter as the toxin did its work. Her facial muscles tightened even more and her breaths were short wheezes as the full effect took over. After a minute of excruciating pain the chimpanzee dropped dead, her face horribly contracted. The doctors made a full summary of the toxin's effects and shut off the video recording.

"Congratulations, Dr. Patel," the major said as he shook the other scientist's hand.

"Thank you, congratulations to you too," Dr. Patel replied. "Ironic, don't you think?"

"What's that?"

"You never like jokes and yet you create a toxin that will make people look like they're laughing to death. No offense."

"None taken. Never thought of it like that." The major checked his watch. "It's late, I'm sure my wife is irritated I'm not home yet.

"How far along is she?"

"Five months now. Just found out it's a girl. I'm taking off, I'll send my full report tomorrow to the DoD. Congratulations again."

"Same to you. Good night, Major." Dr. Patel waited for a few minutes after the major/scientist had left and then pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. The cell only had one number programmed in and was strictly used only for that number. He dialed and waited for the other end to pick up.

"It's ready. He's heading home now," Dr. Patel said.

"Good. Stay there." the man on the other end ordered.

"I will, don't worry. I know not to cross the Red Hood."

The major opened the door to his house and stepped in. Tonight was going to be a celebration. The toxin was a success that would be recognized by the Department of Defense and those who were cleared to know of it's existence. He would have his choice of high paying jobs in the private sector once he left the military. And leave he would. He had served his country well and seen the horrors of war up close. He still had nightmares about Bosnia and Kosovo. But all of that was behind him now. Civilian life would be easy and peaceful.

"Honey," he called out. "Break out the sparkling cider. We have something to celebrate!" No response. "Honey, you home?"

The major stepped into his living room and abruptly stopped. His wife sat on the sofa with tears streaming down her face. An m1911 pistol with attached silencer was aimed at her head. Surrounding her were four men all dressed identically in black fatigues, jackets, and combat boots. They each wore customized dark red tactical helmets with blood red face masks.

"Hello, Doctor," the man closest to him said. "Do as we say and she won't be hurt."

The major pulled his BMW up to the front gate and flashed his badge at the marine at the security post. The marine saluted and passed him through. The major drove to his designated parking spot, parked, and walked around to open the trunk of his car. Two Red Hoods got out and stretched.

"Good so far, Major."

"Let's just get this over with," the major said.

It was late at night and security was light by now. Roving guards were easily avoided along with cameras. The trio made their way to the Mante Building, stopping at the entrance.

"Slide your card, step in, do what we asked, and be cool," one of the Red Hoods instructed. The major nodded his head in compliance.

The major did as he was told and stepped through the glass doors but made sure not to let them shut all the way.

"Evening, sir," the marine behind the front desk said.

"Corporal, do you mind holding the door open for me? I have some boxes of notes I have to bring in and I can't swipe it and carry them at the same time."

"Yes, sir."

The marine stepped out from behind the security desk and walked towards the entrance. When he was within ten feet the major stepped aside. One of the Red Hoods stepped in and fired a subsonic bullet into the Corporal's forehead. He was dead before he hit the floor.

"You guys are ex-military," the major said. It wasn't a question. The operation had obviously taken planning, and the men moved with a sense of purpose. Their training showed.

"Shut up and keep moving."

The group made it's way quickly and quietly toward's the major's office where his notes were kept on a computer tablet in a safe with a biometric lock. Once inside his office he walked up to the safe, punched in a numeric code, and put his palm on the scanner. The safe opened and he took the tablet out.

"This is all of it. Notes are also backed up on a server, though," the major said.

"We already took care of that, smartass."

How the hell did they know about the server? the major wondered.

"We need a sample too. Move to the lab."

"I...I can't get the samples by myself. Dr. Patel and I both have to use our codes to get into the lab itself."

"No shit. Get moving."

The group walked down the hallway and through a set of double doors to another hallway. At the end was the door to the lab itself. Dr. Patel was standing there, waiting. The major finally understood how the Red Hood had planned this operation so precisely.

"Rakesh!" he yelled as he got closer. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"I am sorry, Major," Dr. Rakesh Patel replied. "The money was just too good. You're the brains behind this toxin. You probably could have even made it without me. I'll never be worth what you are."

"Do you have any idea what these men are going to do with it? These are terrorists!"

"We're not terrorists, asshole," one of the Red Hoods said. "We just sell to them. Now open the fucking door."

The major and Dr. Patel simultaneously swiped their cards, put their eyes to the retinal scanners and typed in their individual codes. The hermetically sealed doors whooshed open and the four men stepped inside. They went to the lab with the refrigerated sample. Dr. Patel opened up the refrigerator, grabbed the box containing vials of the liquid, and handed them over to the Red Hoods.

"You know they're going to kill you now," the major said to Patel.

"Don't be so cliche," one of the Hoods said. "We're going to pay him and leave him alone. Bad for business in the long run if you kill your inside man. Word gets around. Let's go."

The quartet made their way back towards the entrance. As they went into the first hallway all four stopped short at the sight in front of them. The Batman was in the hallway, coming towards them. Both Red Hoods reacted instantly and without hesitation. They leveled their weapons at Batman and began firing. There was nowhere in the hallway for Batman to move and multiple rounds struck him in the chest. He collapsed to the floor.

Both Red Hoods pushed the doctors back the way they had come.

"Go! Go! Go!" the first one yelled as they retreated.

"Holy shit, he's real!" the second one said.

They both reloaded their pistols. The group went through the hallway and back toward's the doctor's offices. They all went into Patel's office and stopped to catch their breath.

"Shit, what now?" Dr. Patel asked. "I can't go to prison."

"You won't," one of the Hoods said as he raised his pistol. He fired a round through the doctor's right eye. The Red Hood looked at his partner and shrugged his shoulders. "He knew too much to get caught."

"Any ideas?" his partner asked.

The Batman slowly got up and leaned against the wall. He checked his body armor to see if any bullets had penetrated. None had. It might have saved his life, but the multiple impacts had knocked the wind out of him. There would be multiple bruises in the morning and possibly broken ribs.

He had been tracking the group known as the Red Hood for months now. The Red Hood was a group of former Navy SEALs who had gone into business for themselves after being discharged. They were the first in the black market arms chain. If an arms dealer wanted a particular type of weapon the Red Hood was called to procure it. A tip from PENGUIN had led the Batman here. Oswald Cobblepot knew that chemical weapons were not something Gotham City needed on the black market. It would bring law enforcement down on him like never before.

Now months of work were down the drain because of something as simple as a hallway with no adjacent rooms. The Batman had heard the group coming but simply could not get out of the way in time. He was preparing to toss a flash bang but the group saw him first. Such stupid, small things could ruin an operation.

The Batman rounded the hallway and stopped. One of the Red Hoods was walking towards him, holding a syringe in his hand. Batman immediately threw a batarang at the Hood's fist. The Hood dropped the syringe, which landed in his foot. He immediately screamed and quickly pulled it out. Batman could see that most the syringe was still filled with a greenish liquid. As he started to walk towards the Hood another Hood jumped from around the corner and began firing. Batman was struck in the cowl and fell to the ground unconscious. The Hood and another man dressed in slacks and a dress shirt ran past him and towards the entrance of the building.

The major was in horrible pain. One of the Red Hoods had forced him to trade clothes, including the red helmet, and attack Batman. When the batarang hit his fist he had dropped the syringe right into his foot. A small drop of the liquid had gone into his bloodstream, but not enough to kill him. He could feel the effects of the toxin, though. Breathing was difficult and his face was twitching. Still, he was alive. He looked down at the unconscious Batman in front of him. He was afraid that if the Batman woke up he would not believe the major wasn't really a Red Hood and take him to the police. The major had to go save his wife and unborn child. He took off the red helmet and raced for his house.


	3. The Killing Joke Chapter 1

1

**OPPORTUNITY**

**PRESENT**

**GOTHAM** **CITY**

The man slid along the brick wall of the alley leaving a trail of blood behind. Each step took effort. Step, pain. Step, pain. Everything was fuzzy and he couldn't quite remember what to do. He looked down at his blood stained suit. There was a deep cut somewhere underneath the cloth and the steady flow wasn't slowing down. _What...do I do?_ It was getting harder and harder to think. I can't die like this. Not in some filthy alley. _I never even got to..._ He took two more steps and fell to the ground. _Doctor... need a doctor. People like me don't... die like this._ The man leaned up against the wall and reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his cell phone. He wiped the blood off his shaking hands so the touchscreen would work properly. He dialed the number of the one person he trusted in the world. She had never let him down yet.

"Hello" she answered after the first ring. There was already panic in her voice. "Where are you?"

"Hey, baby." The man coughed, sending a spray of blood onto his shirt. _Well_ _that's not good._ "I'm in a little bit of trouble."

"My God, where are you? I've been looking for you! Did you get away from him? He's fucking crazy!"

"I'm… four blocks West of our place. Behind… bodega." So tired. Is this a bad dream? "The whole building is gone. Explosion. Fucking lunatic blew my house up!" This time the coughs and spasms went on for a full 30 seconds. Every time he opened his mouth more blood came out. "Hurry, babe." He dropped the phone and slumped against the wall.

"I'm almost there! I'm in the car. Please, please, please, hang on, puddin'!"

The Joker smiled. Help was on the way. He found it hilarious Harley always was there when he asked. No matter how many times he punched, kicked, burned or whatever method her pain of the day was delivered, she never left. He enjoyed what she let him do to her. She had some beautiful scars. It was a game. See how far he can push and still keep her around. If she broke and left, he won. If she stayed and he got the sensual release of inflicting pain, he won. He never understood how someone smart enough to be a doctor could be so stupid. Pathetic. _That psychiatrist needs some serious fucking therapy!_ He chuckled at the thought and lost consciousness.

"Batman, do you copy? Batman, this is Robin. Do you read me?"

Batgirl and Robin rode in unison on their motorcycles. They had been kept from this particular objective. It was amazing how the little things sometimes caught the bad guy. The abandoned warehouse hadn't been touched in years. But on this particular night Bobby Monahan had decided to place a cache for his geocaching account. The 911 operator had only heard two words before the call disconnected. Joker. Help. The emergency channel monitoring program the Bunker's computer used flagged the words and forwarded the call to all members of the Team, along with the location.

Joker. The word had special meaning to them. No one they had encountered had created so much chaos. There was no rhyme. There was no reason. Just chaos. Batman had made a rule after their last deadly encounter. He had decided that no amount of training would prepare his prepare his protégées for chaos like the Joker. Until they were better than Batman himself, no engaging the Joker. Chaos cannot be predicted.

"Batman!" Batgirl said into her suit microphone. "We are oscar mike to your twenty. Do you copy." Static was the only reply.

"Eagle, do you copy?"

"Copy, Robin. Looking for him now", Alfred replied from the Bunker. He was sitting in front of the massive display monitor connected to the WayneTech supercomputers housed Ft. Meade in Maryland. The Team had the power of the National Security Agency at their fingertips. "I've got a bird eye on the site. Nothing but smoke. Thermal is no good. Emergency response teams are on their way. Emergency bands have high activity."

Batgirl and Robin saw the flashing lights in their mirrors and sped up to get to Batman before the firemen or police did. Exposure was always avoided if possible, even to friendlies. They guided their bikes through the industrial district past the abandoned cars and buildings. They stared in horror at the building when they arrived. It was completely engulfed in flames. As good as their training was, they did not have the equipment with them to deal with a five alarm fire. Never had they felt so helpless.

"Eagle, any sign?" Robin asked.

"Negative. Wait… four blocks west. Thermal shows a signature in alleyway approximately three meters from entrance. Human size. Sig is hot and not moving. Switching to – bloody cloud cover. Visual on signature is lost. Weather interference. Remember, your uniforms mask heat signature. Unlikely to be Batman."

"Roger. He could have ditched the suit in the heat. We're almost there," Batgirl said. The duo pulled their bikes to within a block of the alley and dismounted. "Up top. You take north."

Robin nodded. They both reached into their belts and pulled out their grapple guns, aiming for opposite ends of the three story roof. A soft pfffft emitted from each gun. Millions of dollars had gone into the research and development on what Robin jokingly called the Batgrapple. The polymer wire developed specifically for the tool was half the size of regular dental floss and had been tested to hold up to three hundred fifty pounds. Each member of the team carried two guns and two one hundred yard line clips. Batgirl and Robin attached the lines to their belts and punched the button to the reeling mechanism at the back. Both were on the roof in less than fifteen seconds. Batgirl cautiously approached the opposite end of the roof. She could see Robin less than fifty yards away quickly approaching from the opposite end. Usually speed, caution, and silence were considered mutually exclusive to most people, even well trained ones. But this was the Team. And the Team had been trained by the Batman. Speed, caution, and silence were standard operating procedure.

"Team, Batman. Uniform communication system was destroyed by the explosion. I have made my way back to the Batmobile about a mile away and am using it's com system now. I have sustained injuries but am ambulatory. Batgirl, SITREP."

Even from across the roof Batgirl and Robin saw the tension leave each other's bodies. Their mentor was alive. He had once again cheated death.

"Batman, SITREP: Robin and I are rooftop four blocks west of explosion. Satellite picked up a heat signature. We are both ten feet from visual."

"Copy. Report when you have eyes on. Eagle, do you read?"

"I read, Batman."

"Eagle, be prepared to receive injury. Left knee is in pain, possible ribs broken, possible concussion. Batmobile is auto to Bunker."

"Copy all." Alfred muted the microphone and exhaled a sigh of relief. He stepped away from the monitor and walked to the infirmary section of the Bunker to prepare for Batman and his injuries.

Batgirl went to the edge of the roof and leaned over. Robin was still on the other side and doing the same. The both had engaged the nightvision lenses built into their masks. More million dollar equipment. Robin saw him first, Batgirl right after. The man was sitting against the alley wall and not moving. A trail of blood marked his path. Holy shit. Was the Joker finally dead?

"Team, visual on signature. Signature is Joker. Repeat signature is Joker."

"Batgirl, confirm?" Batman said.

"Confirmed. Visual on Joker. Can't tell if he's dead or unconscious. Heading down to take a look."

"Negative," Batman said. "Do not engage. Mark location and RTB."

"Do not engage? It's not engaging if he's unconscious!" Batgirl couldn't believe what she was hearing. Caution was one thing. Being so afraid of a possibly dead man that you couldn't even go near him was over the line. This was over protection at it's worst.

"Repeat: Do not engage. Do not approach. Mark location. RTB."

"I will not return to base! We have him! We can stop him right now!" Batgirl was speaking louder than she should have by now. How can Batman not see this needs to be done? We can finally get the Joker!

"Batman, I can confirm he's not moving and appears at least unconscious. Recommend apprehension now." Robin said. This was too good an opportunity to miss. "We might not get another shot at this."

"Mark location. Return to base. Now."

Batgirl turned her microphone off and turned to Robin. "We have him. I'll approach and restrain, you watch my six. We can end this tonight! You know it's the right play."

Robin sighed. This seemed like the right thing to him too. He was torn between the woman he loved and the mentor he idolized more than any person on the planet. Batman had trained them. Batman rarely made mistakes. Could this be one of the rare occasions? He looked directly at Batgirl's face, thankful her pleading eyes were hidden behind the opaque lenses. It made it slightly easier.

"Batman's right. There could be a thousand things down there we don't see. Could be a double rigged to blow. Could really be him. We don't know and- wait-" They both turned and looked down. A car had pulled into the alley and stopped next to the Joker. A woman in jeans and light jacket got out. She put her blonde hair into a ponytail and approached the body. She knelt down next to the face, pulled out a penlight and checked the Joker's eyes. She then grabbed his wrist and felt the pulse for a few seconds. Without a word she dragged him over to the car and put him into the back seat. She stepped to the driver seat, shut the door and drove away.

Batgirl and Robin had both activated the relay mini cameras built into their mask lenses. Everything was recorded and instantly sent to the Bunker for download.

"Batgirl, Robin. Update," Batman's voice boomed in their earpiece. Robin responded first.

"Batman, a car just came and picked the body up. It looked like Quinzel. She checked vitals and loaded him into the back seat. No visible reaction from her. All recorded on lenscam. Eagle, can you task a sat on our location?"

"Negative. Prepping for arrival of injury."

"Copy that. Batman, we are RTB."

"Copy," came the cold reply.

Robin turned to Batgirl. "I'm sorry. We had our orders. God knows what would have happened if she had driven into that alley while we were there."

"We would have handled it. We had him. We fucking had him. I'll see you back at the Bunker." Batgirl walked to the edge of the roof and stepped off, gliding down to her bike. She rode away without another word.


	4. The Killing Joke Chapter 2

**2**  
**HOT WASH**

Robin was the last to arrive at the Bunker underneath Wayne Tower. The first year as Robin the Team had used the cave underneath Wayne Manor as their base of operations. Eventually Batman had decided the cave was too far away and the possibility of the Batmobile being tracked eventually was too great. An off-the-books bomb shelter underneath Wayne Tower had been the perfect solution. The shelter had been built during World War Two by Bruce Wayne's grandfather. It connected to Wayne Manor through a tunnel that had been part of the old subway system before the Gotham Quake of 1936. The series of tunnels underneath the city were deemed structurally unsound after the quake, sealed off, and eventually forgotten. Bruce's grandfather had converted the Wayne Tower Central Station into a bomb shelter after the attack on Pearl Harbor. The project was off the books for security reasons and all available records of the old system were destroyed except for the plans that had been passed down through the family. Bruce had converted the station underneath Wayne Tower into the Bunker. The Bunker served as the central hub for the four other satellite Batcaves built into other stations throughout Gotham. The Bunker and it's satellites were as well equipped as the original Cave. The tunnels running throughout Gotham gave the Team covert access to nearly any area in the city.

Robin stowed his cycle and headed towards the infirmary to check on Batman. Bruce Wayne lay on a hospital style bed wearing only running shorts now. Alfred was leaning over the bed, finishing up his exam.

"How bad?" Bruce asked Alfred.

"Not bad at all, actually. Ribs are bruised, not broken. You don't seem to have a concussion, and the knee doesn't have much damage. Nothing torn, just some swelling. I can give you something for that, but I'm afraid Batman might not be spotted in Gotham for a few weeks. Any sooner and you'll reinjure yourself - "

"And be out of commission for longer, making me less effective in the long run," Bruce finished the thought for Alfred. "Got it." Bruce turned to Robin. "Drop your kit, put the uniform in it's station and get cleaned up. Hot wash in 30 minutes." Bruce was not one for small talk. Robin nodded, turned and headed for the armory station.

"Might I say, sir, if you can keep this relatively low level of injury on a nightly level you might just live to see forty." Alfred said.

"Heh," Bruce smirked. It was the closest thing to a laugh the real Bruce Wayne expressed. His expression immediately clouded over as he replayed the night's events in his head. "I need to figure out what to do about what Batgirl said when she thought her suit mic was off. She was ready to disobey a direct order. She tried to get Robin to go along. She hasn't done this before."

"Sir, several times she has gone against orders."

"Not like this. There were people in imminent danger before. She's made calls in the field under dire situations when I'm not available. Never with him. Never with the Joker."

"And how many times have you broken your own rules in pursuit of that madman? How many times have you gone against reason and put your life on the line against all odds to stop him? Your proteges are modeled on your example. Being trained by the Batman not only encourages this type of behavior, it nourishes the mentality. You taught two teenagers a skill set that is unparalleled and expect them to not put that training to use when you're not around. Batgirl's actions are the logical conclusion to growing up under the shadow of the Batman. And they are growing up, sir. You need to adapt to that reality. They're becoming young adults. See them as they are, not your nostalgic version."

"It's not nostalgia. I had more years of training and more experience by the time I fought Joker first. My training and experience didn't prepare me for him. They're not ready for the Joker on their own."

"Master Bruce, they're your creation. You trained them. Either you have to admit your training is inadequate, or you will have to learn to trust them." Alfred turned and walked out of the infirmary, leaving Bruce alone to contemplate their conversation.

Robin walked to the armory station of the Bunker and removed his utility belt, placing it next to the other belts used that night. He took the various weapons stored in his uniform and stowed them in the proper bins. From there he went to the uniform station and removed his armor, head cover, and mask placing them in the cleaning and repair pile. He was Dick Grayson again. One of Batman's stringent rules was never to use your civilian name while in uniform. It was a good habit to build. You never know who is listening or what might slip during times of stress. Operational security was vital to the mission.

Dick headed to the locker room. He removed the bodysuit all the team wore underneath the uniform and tossed it into the laundry. Grabbing a towel he headed for the showers. One was already running. Dick silently crept to Barbara's stall and jumped in.

"Hey! Need a scrub down?" he whispered to Barbara.

Barbara jumped back, startled. "Gah! Dick, what the hell?" She had been lost in her thoughts and wasn't used to being snuck up on. It made her already sour mood worse.

"Babs, relax. Sorry. Just thought you might want some company." Dick grinned and gave Barbara his best come hither look. Usually it worked.  
"Oh my God, are you serious? After tonight? You are totally living up to your name right now.. Get out." Barbara glared icily at him.

Dick was taken aback. He knew she had been upset, but not this upset. "Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was that big of a deal." Dick reached down and took her hand in his. "I'm sorry," he repeated. Barbara pulled her hand back.

"Dick, go take a shower. A cold one." Barbara turned her back to him. He didn't know what to say, so Dick turned around and went to his own shower without saying anything else.

Ten minutes later all four were seated at the conference table located in the War Room for the hot wash. Bruce, Dick, and Barbara were all dressed in sweatpants and t-shirts. A liter of water and a protein/electrolyte recovery shake prepared by Alfred was sitting next to each field operator. A hot wash was a full debriefing of the previous mission. The chronology of events was reviewed first, followed by mission assessment. In every mission some things went right and some things went wrong. Hot washes were about full disclosure. Each team member reviewed their own actions and the actions of the rest of the team. No judgement was allowed during the hot wash. Actions were simply examined to see what worked and what did not. It was naked and raw and egos were not allowed. It allowed the Team to learn from their mistakes and improve future mission performance. Alfred always began with the review.

"At 2127 hours Gotham dispatch received a 911 call from a cell phone number registered to Robert J. Monahan. It is assumed but not confirmed that is who placed the call. Only two words were heard, presumably from Mr. Monahan. "Joker" and "help". The call ended after that. Our ECHELON monitoring system flagged 'Joker' and an alert was sent out to each Team member. The GPS on the phone placed the call coming from an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district of Gotham. It isn't known why Mr. Monahan was there. Records show nothing more than parking tickets. Monahan was 27, white male, native to Boise, Idaho and lived in Gotham for 5 years after he left university. Occupation was insurance adjuster. He was single and lived with a roommate. This was all pulled from his DMV, tax records, and Facebook page. Mr. Monahan did have one interesting hobby. He coordinated and participated in geocaching. Participants put a box with in a specific location and give the coordinates online. Others will find the box and leave an item and sign a guest book. The best guess I can give is either he was assessing a location for a future cache or was actually in the middle of one. Batman was closest to the location and was already in the Batmobile at the time. I briefed him on Monahan as he was en route. At the time I tasked our satellite monitoring system to the location. Intermitent cloud cover and fog reduced the effectiveness of satellite imagery. Visual came in and out. Bruce?"

Bruce stood and took up where Alfred left off. "Because it was the Joker, I told Batgirl and Robin to approach within 4 blocks of the warehouse and await further instructions. I parked the Batmobile a little under a mile away. There was no way to tell at the time if Joker had the surrounding area monitored and I didn't want to give away my approach. I grappled to the roof of the nearest building and made my way towards the warehouse. I landed on the roof of the warehouse. No guards or monitoring devices were visible. I made my way to a rooftop skylight, switched to thermal lenses. Only two signatures were visible. Joker was standing over Monahan, severely beating him with a chain. Monahan was in immenent danger and I immediately opened the skylight and tossed a flash-bang towards the Joker. That's the last thing I remember. Alfred, what did you see?"

Alfred picked a remote off the conference table and clicked a button. On the largest monitor a digital recording of the satellite view popped up. Batman could be seen on the roof. He opened the skylight, dropped something in. The screen immediately flashed. The windows on the warehouse all exploded at once and fire streamed out of them. Dust and smoke filled the screen. "The flash-bang is probably what caused the explosion," Alfred said. "We don't know what was in there. It could have been something as simple as a gas leak."

Bruce took over again. "The blast knocked me to the adjacent rooftop. I woke up and assessed my injuries. Breathing was difficult and my knee was in pain. I was disoriented. My com gear was rendered inoperable so I made my way back to the Batmobile to reestablish communication. Dick, Barbara, your turn. Who's first?"

Dick looked to Barbara. She didn't return the look. Dick shrugged, stood and began. "Barbara and I were eating dinner in the Kubrick District when we received the alert. We paid, left, and made our way to the Monolith Square cave. We suited up and grabbed our standard belt kit and made our way towards the Tricorner Yards. En route we received our orders and within a few minutes the explosion happened. We parked our bikes four blocks west and went topside for a better visual. Batgirl and I were on opposite ends of the roof. At the edge of the roof we spotted Joker, seemingly injured or dead, laying against the wall of the alley. We received our orders, waited, and monitored the Joker. Within a few minutes Harleen Quinzel arrived in an older model Camry. Quinzel briefly assessed the Joker's injuries and put him in the back seat before driving away." Dick turned to Barbara. "Babs, anything to add?"

"Nothing," Barbara said coldly. Bruce, Dick, and Alfred traded looks. Barbara usually elaborated on details all three would have left out. She was the smartest of the group and had an editic memory which gave her an advantage over everyone else. Barbara never missed anything.

Bruce stood up. "Let's take a look at what went right. Alfred, good work on coordinating the Team. Dick and Barbara, good response time. All three of you kept your heads when you thought I was dead or injured. No panic. Things also went wrong. First, weather interference with imagery. In the amount of time everything happened Alfred couldn't have launched a drone, manned it, and coordinated the Team simultaneously. Drones don't have the fuel range to stay up for long. Satellites are unreliable. We can have one or the other but not both with our limited manpower. I want all of you to come up with some ideas on improving this. We'll come back at a later time and see what we come up with. Get creative. Second, my flash-bang is what set off the explosion. Time was crucial and I didn't have time to fully assess the situation before action. Even with the time I might have missed it. We need to develop non-explosive flash-bangs. A device with incredibly bright light and high sound output that can also emit the concussion blast to cause disorientation. The only trouble is leaving the tech behind at a scene. As for what caused the explosion, there are devices that can detect odors and gases. But they're bulky and would hinder a standard kit on utility belts. Another project for us to consider. That's it. Any questions or comments?"

"We had him." All three men looked to Barbara. "We had him and he got away. He got away because you ordered us to let that happen. We had him."

"In hindsight, yes." Bruce replied. "We didn't know that at the time. The call was made on the information we had."

"Bullshit!" Barbara yelled.

"Babs!" Dick reached across the table to take her hand. "It was the right call. Calm down!" Barbara pulled back.

"It was NOT the right call. He was injured and possibly dead. Joker was handed to us on a silver platter and you made us stand down!"

"It was my call. I made it. It's on me, not you." Bruce said. "Joker is brilliant and unpredictable. It could have been a trap. The whole thing could have been planned by him. You didn't know and we couldn't take that chance. You're not an oracle, Barbara."

Barbara visibly bristled at the comment. "That's what we do, Bruce! It wasn't a chance. It was a calculated risk. Dick and I have been trained by Batman. Doesn't that speak for itself? If we weren't good enough for the job we wouldn't be here. We've taken on metapowered supervillians but we can't approach a half dead ordinary man? Bullshit."

"The Joker isn't ordinary. He is our highest priority right now. We didn't get him tonight, but we will get him."

"Yeah, I'm sure that will be of great comfort to his next victim." Barbara stood up and stormed out of the room. Dick stood up and started to go after her.

"Dick, wait." Bruce said.

"What, Bruce? I need to go after her," Dick replied, obviously concerned. Barbara had been upset with Bruce before, but never like this.

"Let her cool off. I want a read from you on what happened tonight with her."

Dick ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He thought of Bruce's question for a few seconds before responding. "I guess she's frustrated. We've taken down some big bads before and this seemed like child's play compared to that. I was ready to go after him too. She feels you think we're incapable. And that allowed the one guy we want the most to get away."

"Will this...mentality...alter her effectiveness in the field? Full disclosure."

The entire Team was well trained in reading micro-expressions on people's faces. Dick knew he couldn't lie to Bruce even if he wanted to. "I honestly don't know. I've never seen her like this. We have fights, but she's never come close to that with you. She has a point. Ya gotta cut the cord sometime, man."

Bruce contemplated this for a few seconds. "I need you to observe her for the next few days. See if you can get a read and report back. I can't have her in the field if I can't trust her."

"Whoa, wait a minute there. I am not spying on my own girlfriend. You're the one with trust issues, not her."

"Dick, this is about her safety. Her head needs to be clear if she's going to do the job. Do you want her operating if she's not at full capacity?"

Bruce had a point and Dick reluctantly knew it. "No, I don't."

"Good, then do this. For her. Stay here tonight. Get some rest and let her cool down."

"Yeah... yeah I guess." Dick turned to Alfred, who had watched the whole exchange silently. "Alfred, I'll get some breakfast in the morning?"

"Of course, sir. It'll be my best omlette yet. Good night, Master Richard."

"Okay. Thanks, Alfred. Thanks, Bruce." Exhausted, Dick left for the penthouse and his room.

Bruce turned to Alfred. "Well?"

"Sir, I'm afraid that in these situations a cold, analytical demeanor is not what your students are looking for from you."

"My cold, analytical demeanor is what keeps us alive and effective. They're too young, too focused on ego. I was worse at that age. I remember. They'll be fine. It's nothing we can't handle."

"I pray you're right, sir. I pray you're right."


	5. The Killing Joke Chapter 3

**3**  
**One Bad Day**

2 DAYS LATER

Joker slowly opened his eyes. He raised his head and looked around the room. An intense headache immediately started and his eyes hurt from the lights. He slowly sat up on the creaky bed and examined his nude body. His right arm and leg were red and raw, the hair all burned off. A row of stitches ran vertically down his right side starting just below the collarbone. Every inch of his body was sore. He ran his fingers through his greasy green hair and found that half of his head was shaved with more stitches going up his skull.

The Joker looked to his right and saw a liter of water in a plastic bottle. He gingerly reached over, grabbed the bottle and drank the entire thing without putting it down. The room appeared to be some kind of office. There were filing cabinets on the opposite side of the wall. In the middle was an old desk with a computer and monitor on top that were at least 20 years old. Movie posters decorated the walls. Titanic. Jurassic Park. Pulp Fiction, Jerry Maguire. Boogie Nights. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

"Harley!", he yelled as loudly as he could.

Harley opened the door and walked in. She sat down at the edge of the bed and grabbed his wrist to check his pulse. "Oh God, baby! You're okay!" She sat his wrist down satisfied with his heart rate. Harley wrapped her arms around Joker's neck and gave a gentle squeeze. "Oh God oh God oh God! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"What the fuck, Harley?" Joker reached up and pulled her hands off of his neck. The Joker did not like to be touched, especially affectionate touches. If he wanted to touch another person that was fine with him. Nobody touched the Joker unless he wanted them to. If anyone but Harley had hugged him like this that person would be strangled on the spot. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"If I remembered would I ask? Do ever think before you open your mouth?"

"I'm sorry!" Harley said. "Jeez!"

"If you were so sorry you wouldn't always ask stupid questions. So why do you keep doubting me when I ask something?

"I don't know..."

"No, not 'I don't know'. That is not an answer. Do you think I'm fucking stupid?"

"No, sir..."

"Then stop questioning me. Now what the fuck happened?" Still nude, the Joker swung his legs to the floor and stood up. He carefully walked, assessing what parts of his body were injured.

"Oh god, baby it was just plain awful! You had a laceration on your skull, shrapnel severed your subclavian artery, you had second de-"

"Let's... dispense with the medicalese and just tell me what happened." He scowled as a new wave of pain washed over him.

"Batman blew you the fuck up! I fixed you!"

The Joker started giggling. "That dumb bastard." He walked over to a dusty mirror hanging on the wall and inspected himself. Half of his hair was gone. The right side of his face was reddish, but not terribly burned. His right eyebrow was burned off. The sight caused him to break out into full on laughter. "Hahahahahahaha! Batfuck done good! Whoa momma, I look rough! Heh ha!" Immediately his laughter stopped and he turned towards Harley. "Where are we?"

"I found us an old movie theater. No one's been here in years. I bought us a portable generator so we stay off the power grid. No one will find us. Did I do good?"

He ignored her question. "Where are my clothes?"

"Honey, your suit was burned. That was the last one, we can get another one made for you tomorrow." Harley walked over to the closet and and opened the door. She took out a green and white Hawaiian shirt with purple flowers covering it. Khaki cargo shorts and sandals were on the bottom of the floor. "What about this?"

"Ha ha! Vacation clothes!" Joker said as he looked over the shirt. "I... _love_ this color scheme." Joker put the shirt and shorts on and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The shirt and shorts were a couple sizes too big, but he loved the comical effect that provided.

"Ya look good, baby!" Harley exclaimed. "We can find someone to make you a suit tomorrow."

"Heh, don't bother. They're probably watching every tailor in Gotham right now. We need to keep as... quiet as possible for a bit."

He kept staring at his reflection in the mirror, replaying what he could remember in his mind about the night of the explosion. Every intricate plan he had ever made had been stopped by the Batman. He had gotten to kill before, to hurt before, but never on the scale he wanted to. Something needed to change.  
Harley watched him as he seemed to get lost in his own reflection. The Joker stared into his own eyes as his head slowly swayed back and forth. His brow furrowed and the edges of his mouth started to slightly twitch. He started to drum his fingers together at a quick pace. The Joker was in thinking mode now.

Harley watched him, her psychiatrist's mind fascinated by the body language of the smartest man she knew. He was more brilliant than anyone she had ever known. His perception of people and society was more insightful and eye opening than any doctor. Quinn had studied many brilliant men to earn her doctorate. None of those men had been truly appreciated during their own lifetime. The Joker was the most misunderstood man she had ever studied. While the majority of society walked around in a fog of endless worry, he moved among them completely free. Normal people were chained down by their obsession with careers, relationships, religion, politics, mortgages, car payments, and all the other emotional and physical trappings of life. The Joker saw them as a god would see mortals. And his purpose was to break these chains and free the people from their mundane existence. Whether by death or pain, the Joker showed others what the meaning of life really was. Beauty through chaos. He had freed Harley, and she worshipped him for it. Her life was now devoted to serving him by helping to free as many other sheep as possible. She continued to watch, mesmerized by him. Finally he violently shook his head and turned to her.

"It's always me fighting him. It's always him fighting me. Me and him. Him and me. Humph. Heh heh. That dumbfuck do-gooder doesn't care. He gets off on it. He needs me. He appreciates me. I could blow up an orphanage and he would feel even more self righteous about taking me down. He lives by his... mission. What the Batman needs is pain. Personal pain. I need to up my game."

"Um, kill Robin and Batgirl?" Harley asked.

"Tried that. Batkids are... hard. No, it has to be... Gordon. That sactimonious pig calls me crazy. He works with a man in a bat suit but calls ME crazy. I was not born this way. It takes one bad day. One bad day to make a man crazy." The Joker smiled. "I'll show him. One bad day for Gordon. Then we'll see who's crazy." He turned and walked up to Harley. "Get a crew together. Go to Cobblepot, we need guys with a grudge."

"Yes, Mr. J!" Harley saluted and turned to leave so she could make the call.

"Oh, and Harley?"

Harley turned back around and walked back to Joker. He quickly grabbed her by the throat. "How long have I been out?"

Harley froze, afraid of what to say. "Two days, sir."

The Joker started squeezing her throat. "Two days. Two days I've been here and you have me wake up in filth?"

"I'm sorry, puddin'," Harley gasped. The Joker squeezed harder.

"Do we live in filth?" The Joker pushed down. Harley fell to her knees. It was harder to breathe now.

"No, sir." Tears started falling down her cheeks.

"And why do I do this?" He squeezed harder.

"Be...cause you love...me," Harley gasped. She was losing consciousness.

"Because I love _us_. I love us, Harley." The Joker released her throat. Harley crumpled to the ground gasping and gagging. "We do not live in filth, Harley. We are beautiful."

"I'm sorry." More tears started to fall. She had failed him in something so simple.

"And Harley?" The Joker kneeled down. He grabbed her face and cradled it in his hands, looking deep into her eyes. "You. Are. Beautiful."

Harley giggled.

The Kubrick District was one of Gotham's nicer shopping districts. Covering a square mile that included numerous shops, coffee houses, bars, restaurants, and two movie theaters, it also had a long boardwalk that ran along the Sprang River. The nicer restaurants had their patios right on the edge of the boardwalk, providing a great spot for people watching as they walked past. Parents pushed strollers, teenagers ran in herds, giggling and laughing and lovers held hands as they walked together.

Dick Grayson walked down the path on the way to the sushi place where he was supposed to meet Barbara. He scanned the area as he walked noticing every person, the clothing and jewelry they wore. Race, gender, age, height, weight, demeanor were all instantly evaluated. Make, model, color, and condition of cars in the parking lots were noticed. At first it had been exhausting learning how to notice everything. He had drilled countless hours to perfect the art. Eventually it became easier. As time went on it became second nature. He hardly even noticed that he did it anymore. Dick thought about how lucky Barbara was. She never had to train or think at all about her environment. She just naturally did so with perfect recall. Her ability had never ceased to amaze him.

He walked through the glass doors of Wariyatsu and into the restaurant. He walked past the hostess and headed for the men's restroom, which allowed him to assess the number of patrons and workers while noting where the exits and kitchen were. After finishing in the restroom he walked over to the hostess.

"Hey, welcome to Wariyatsu. Do you have a reservation?" the hostess asked as she smiled. She pushed her hair behind her ear and turned her head more towards him, tilting her chin slightly. Dick smiled inwardly. He knew how to read body language and her attraction was obvious. As he had gotten older he had noticed women responded more and more like this towards him. And a few guys too. It was always flattering. The fact that he was a minor celebrity because he was the son of Gotham's famous billionaire only added to his allure.

"Hey, there. It's under 'Grayson'. Patio if you got it." He grinned at her staring at her eyes, trying to work the magic.

"I think I can work something out. Have a seat, I'll do what I can. I'm guessing this is for two?"

"Yeah."

She gave a little laugh. "Of course it is. I'll be right back." She winked and headed towards the patio. As she did Dick saw Barbara come through the entrance. Dick smiled. As always she was the perfect mix of classy and sexy. He couldn't believe someone that smart and stunning existed. Barbara walked up him and gave him a quick kiss.

"Hey handsome," she said, grinning.

"Hey yourself. Thanks for not standing me up."

"Ha. You're still in the doghouse. I just happen to be very hungry," she said humorously.

Dick held his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll take what I can get!" Barbara laughed.

"I'm sure you will, stud. I saw Ms. Hostess there-"

"I believe her name tag said 'Kari'," Dick interupted.

"I believe I saw Ms. Kari there swooning over you."

"It's a curse..."

Kari walked up to the couple and got their attention. "Table's all set if you guys want to follow me." She turned and headed away, Dick and Barbara following.

They were seated and Kari handed them drink menus. She checked Grayson out one more time and walked away. Barbara grinned. The waiter came over and they both ordered green tea. He placed the sushi menu down and walked away to get their drinks.

Dick took out his customized iPhone and opened a hidden app on the modified device. The phone chirped once, indicating the app was active. The app had no name visible on the phone. It produced a fluctuating tone that was so high humans couldn't hear it. It also rendered any listening devices around them inoperable. No one could electronically eavesdrop on any voice within a meter of the phone.

"We're clear," Dick said. The waiter came back over and dropped their drinks off and walked away to give them time to look at the menu.

Barbara glanced over the appetizers. "He asked you assess me, didn't he? Split a seaweed salad?" she asked without looking up.

Dick kept his eyes on his menu. "Salad's fine. Miso soup, too? Yep, he did. You know I was going to tell you."

"I never turn down miso soup." She looked up at him. "Of course I know you would."

"Okay, good." Dick sighed, slightly relieved. "He just wants to make sure you're not letting your frustration take over. He wants you in the field."

"I get that. But we're at a point where something has to change, Dick. People are probably going to get hurt because we hesitated. It was his call, but we followed it. That's going to haunt me the next time someone gets hurt."

"Me too. Look, why don't we do a sit down with both of them. Ask for a full eval. We haven't done that in a while. We haven't plateaued on our skills yet, and he'll appreciate that we want to get better. Find out what he wants us to focus on. He'll listen to us."

"He listens to you, maybe. Not so much with me."

"Babs, he's just threatened by you." Dick smiled.

Barbara giggled. "You know, I think he might just be a little. Okay, we'll talk to him. Let's give it a few days. I still need to cool off with him."

"A week sounds good."

"Days."

"Week."

"Days or go home alone tonight."

"Days it is!" They both laughed. "So you ready to order, babe?"

"Oh my God, I am starving."

An hour later they were strolling down the boardwalk holding hands. A father walked by, the little boy on his shoulders was wearing a Superman shirt. His wife walked beside them, holding hands with their young daughter. They smiled at Dick and Barbara as they walked by. They smiled back. It was a perfect night.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Barbara asked. She rested her head on his shoulder as they slowly walked.

"It is."

The Team rarely took a night off. Although they didn't always go out in uniform, there were always projects to work on. Cases were reviewed, new police reports were read, the news was watched. Equipment always needed maintenance or upgrading. Batman knew that relaxation was also good for mental health, which was good for the Team. Without any actionable intelligence to work on at the moment, Dick and Barbara took the opportunity to have a normal night.

"Daddy, Batman!" a small child said, pointing up.

People started to look in the same direction. Dick and Barbara turned to see the batsignal shining in the night sky. Both their phones vibrated at once. They received the same text message: DISREGARD

"Well," Dick said to Barbara, "Looks like we have the night off."

"Movie?" Barbara asked.

"Sure."

"Great. I pick, you buy."

"That doesn't seem too fair," Dick grinned.

"I can go back to being mad at you?"

"Fair enough!" Dick said.

"Thought so. And just so you know, I plan on you buying me breakfast too." Barbara squeezed his hand and kissed him passionately. They laughed together and started walking towards the theater.


	6. The Killing Joke Chapter 4

**4**  
**GRUDGE**

Police Commissioner James Gordon stood on the rooftop of One Gotham Plaza, the building which housed the Gotham City Police headquarters. Along with the officers and detectives that made up the regular precincts, the nineteen story building was also the location of the Major Crimes Unit and the Metahuman Investigation Squad, which Gordon had created and run during the Batman's first year in Gotham City.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had come to Gotham and created the squad with the purpose of catching the vigilante who would become his greatest ally in what the media had come to call the Gotham War on Crime. Law enforcement and criminals simply referred to it as the GWOC. Gordon always reflected on his alliance with Batman when the signal was on. Had anyone told him eight years ago that not only would he be working with Batman, but an entire vigilante squad, he would have had the person locked up up in Arkham. But the GWOC had presented challenges no other police commissioner had seen before. While no one was exactly sure if Batman was human or not, the emergence of visible superheroes like Superman and Wonder Woman had made the alliance somewhat acceptable to the people of Gotham and City Hall. The conspiracy theorists who said the Batman was an urban legend also helped. As long as the public didn't quite know know what the Batman was or if he even really existed, Gordon had plausible deniability. The less known about the Batman the better. Misinformation was the best. The people of Gotham loved their urban legend hero. It was why they had elected Gordon as commissioner for the past five years.

Gordon pondered it all as he fished out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He tapped one out, lit it, and waited. Sometimes Batman would respond to the signal within ten minutes. Sometimes it was two hours. Sometimes not at all. Gordon didn't mind the wait. It gave him a chance to reflect, to process, to smoke. And he had gotten quite good at Words with Friends on his smartphone. When the signal was engaged the door to the roof automatically locked. Signal time was rarely interrupted.

"You switched cigarettes," the disembodied voice said.

"To the lights," Gordon replied as he blew out smoke. He turned to face the Batman. During the first year he had known Batman his voice had spooked him. It was somehow a whisper and yet gravelly and firm. It was an ethereal growl that you would picture a demon or spirit using. Gordon had gone from shuddering every time he heard it to finding comfort. The voice meant help. And now deep friendship. "There was an explosion last night at a warehouse in Gotham. One body recovered. We identified him as-"

"Robert Monahan," Batman said.

"Right, of course you know." He inhaled and blew out. "So you know about the phone call too." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I was there."

"So was the Joker actually there? Want to fill me in?"

"He was there. Things went bad quickly. I lost him."

"Well a little heads up would have been nice. You gave me that pager for a reason. We could have cordoned off the area, deployed SWAT," Jim said. He was frustrated. The Joker had been the top priority for the GCPD for months. Every dead body attributed to Joker was taken personally by the officers and detectives on the case.

"It happened too fast. I would have if possible."

"Possible? Were you hurt? None of the response teams mentioned any sign of you." Gordon took another drag off of his cigarette. He didn't know the extent of Batman's abilities, but he knew Batman could be injured or killed. Whether or not he had healing powers was a point of contention to the police and criminals alike.

"I'm fine. The Joker isn't. Quinn picked him up. An '02 gunmetal Camry. G72MCR. It was reported stolen two days ago. They'll need medical supplies and a place to hide."

Gordon memorized the plate number and made a mental note to have a detective do a follow up. "Another close one. God, I hate that son of a bitch. With his luck I would swear he was a meta if the docs hadn't said he was normal." He tossed his cigarette down and crushed it under his heel. "Sometimes I think I would put a fuckin' round in his head if I had the chance. Even if he was in bracelets."

"No, you wouldn't. It's why we work with each other. We do things the right way. We'll stop him the right way, Jim."

"Maybe it's time for an exception."

Gordon closed his eyes and sighed. He twisted his neck back and forth, feeling the tension. He opened his eyes and started to speak but realized Batman was already gone. He shrugged his shoulders, used to the disappearing act by now. Jim reached into his pocket and pulled his pack of smokes out. He could take the time for one more before shutting the signal off and heading downstairs.

PERIGRINATOR'S CLUB

Arnie hated his job. He stood in the corner, eight feet away from the main stage with the dancer in the sexy librarian costume. She was strutting around to "Cherry Pie", which he had actually liked until he heard it twice a night for over a year. He watched the patrons, taking note of each one and how much he had to drink so far. He had the usual headache that came from the same loud music he heard every night.

There was never a night where one of the girls didn't have a "client" get a little too frisky in the main room. In any other situation Arnie's six foot four frame and large muscles would be enough to keep most men in check. For some reason the combination of alcohol and nude women could render even logical men brainless animals. Clients could get as frisky as they wanted in one of the private rooms as long as they had the money. But the main room wasn't for touching in front of everyone. This was a gentlemen's club, after all. Standards had to be maintained.

He was paying especially close attention to the middle aged Asian man in the expensive suit who had been drinking for the past three hours. Probably on a business trip, the bouncer thought. As time had gone on the diminutive man had gone from awkwardly shy at first to laughing and dancing on his chair. The quiet ones usually ended up being the worst.

Cherry, the "librarian" winked at the businessman as she ripped her sweater off, exposing her nude chest. Five and ten dollar bills were thrown on stage by the men sitting around hypnotized by her firm body and perfect fake breasts. She giggled and mouthed "thank you" to a few of the men, but kept returning to the businessman who had been throwing out fifties and hundreds all night. The man walked towards the stage and started to unbuckle his pants, a big grin on his face.

"Arnie!" Cherry yelled. She looked over towards his post and waved to get his attention.

Arnie was already on the move. He came to the man's left and took him by the elbow in a vice-like grip. "Time to go, sir" he said calmly to the businessman as he led him towards the front door. Two other security guards started to move to help but Arnie shook his head to let them know he was handling it.

"Hey, I'm not done!" the businessman said in accented English.

"You're done here," Arnie said back. He continued to lead the man through the entrance to the outside underneath the awning. Arnie shoved the man hard down onto the sidewalk. "Get the fuck outta here. Don't come back."

"Fuck you!" the man said as he picked himself up and stumbled away.

Arnie simply stood there and watched him for a few seconds to make sure the man walked away. Satisfied, he turned and walked back into the club. He went back to his post as he scanned the rest of the club. He noticed a woman with red hair sitting alone, drinking only soda. Arnie walked back to his post near the main stage and resumed his duty.

After a few minutes the red haired woman got up and made her way towards him.

"Rough job, huh?" she asked him.

"Not really, been through worse," Arnie replied coolly

"Well, it doesn't look like something I would want to make a living at."

"Pays bills."

"I would think a big, strong lookin' fella could find a better way to make money," the woman said. She looked Arnie up and down as he continued to scan the crowd. Arnie sighed.

"You tryin to fuck me or somethin'? Look around here, lady. I got all the pussy I need anytime I want. I ain't interested. Go back to your table."

"That's not what I'm here for," she replied coyly.

"Well if you're here for a job you're askin the wrong person. Ask one of the girls when she gets off stage, they'll set you up with the manager."

The woman let out a small laugh. "I'm not here for a job. I'm here to give you a job."

"I already got one. Now go sit down."

"I'm just saying, I would think an ex police sergeant with a prison record would want to do more than toss drunk assholes from a strip club."

Arnie turned and look the woman directly in the eyes. "Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want? I'm about to bounce you."

The woman held out five one thousand bills and put them in Arnie's shirt pocket. "That's five thousand just to talk to you for five minutes."

Arnie looked at the woman, intrigued. He decided to hear her out. "Okay, I get a break in thirty minutes. Meet me out back. You get five minutes. I don't like what I hear or even think you're playin' me you'll regret it."

She smiled. "Five minutes. Trust me."

Thirty minutes later Arnie and the woman were in the alley. Arnie leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. He said nothing, waiting for the woman to make her pitch.

"So, ya ready to make some real money for doing something you'll love?" she asked.

"Time's ticking."

"Tell me, how much do you hate James Gordon?"

"Gordon? That sanctimonious motherfucker ruined my life. I did a nickel in Blackgate because of him. Lost my badge, my freedom, my family. Wife divorced me, took the kids. How much do I hate Gordon? As much as a man can hate another man. Why, what's this about?"

"Well Arnie, I have a deal for you. You help us destroy Gordon and you'll be set for life."

"Why do you need me? Why not just kill him yourself? Not too difficult."

"We're not going to kill him. We are going to make him suffer and we need you for that. Five hundred thousand up top, five hundred after it's done. You'll never have to work in a dive like this again. You can have a better life than before. It's going to be sick. How far are you willing to go?"

"Far as you'll let me."

"That's what we like to hear. We need a few more guys. How about the other cops Gordon took down? They willing to go as far as you?"

Arnold Flass smiled. "Oh yeah, that's not a thing. So who is 'we'?

The woman removed her red wig and let her long blonde hair fall down to her shoulders.

"Oh, Jesus... you're..."

"Harley. Pleased to meet ya!"


	7. The Killing Joke Chapter 5

**5**  
**GREEN LIGHT**

Dick Grayson rolled over in his king sized bed and reached his arm out to put around Barbara, only to find she had already gotten up. He heard the shower running and decided to do some quick breathing exercises while waiting for her to finish. He yawned, stretched, sat up, and checked his Tag watch on the nightstand next to the bed. It was nearly one pm, which was about the standard time he, Bruce, or Barbara would wake up after a night out in uniform.

Dick walked to his closet and grabbed running shorts and a t-shirt. He walked to the center of the enormous bedroom and sat down cross legged on the floor. He put his hands casually on his knees and began breathing in and out at a slow and steady pace. Dick mentally assessed his body, trying to notice any injuries or anomalies. The entire Team started every day this way. They also meditated before going out in uniform. The mental preparation was as important as the physical. After ten minutes he finished and began doing his morning pushups and pull ups. Before his first set was done Barbara came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

"Morning," she said as she walked over and bent down to kiss his cheek.

"Morning," he grunted as he continued to do pushups.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to join me in the shower," she said as she walked towards the closet. Barbara had almost as much clothes at the penthouse as she did at her own home. As independent as she was, Barbara still hadn't moved away from home at twenty-two years old. Six years ago her mother had left her father and taken their son with them. Gotham had proven to be too much for the Gordon marriage. Jim Gordon had been devastated and Barbara simply didn't want him to leave him alone in the house that had once held a complete family. Still, she spent a fair number of nights at the penthouse, which also helped hide her other life as Batgirl from her father.

Dick smiled and walked to his pull up bar in the corner. "Just woke up," he said. He began doing his first set of pull ups. "Of course I can always use your help on cardio."

"Ah, no. Just took a shower." Barbara started going through top after top, looking for the right one.

"I meant go for a run?" he smirked.

"Uh, no you didn't," she laughed. "I know that trick."

"You know me well. I do actually want to hit the park for a run before breakfast. Come with me. You can shower again."

"Sweetheart, breakfast for us is after lunch for everyone else. I have to go grocery shopping for Dad and me and then make dinner. It's Sunday." She frowned, not finding something she liked yet.

"Gordon family dinner night. I forgot because of the hospital thing tonight. Pick you up at seven thirty?" Dick finished his first set of twenty pull ups and dropped down.

"Yeah, we should be done by then. When is this thing over?"

"Bruce said around ten or so. We schmooze for an hour, Bruce makes a speech, Leslie introduces Tom Elliot, Tom says thank you, Bruce makes an ass of himself." He started to do a set of sit ups in between. Dick had a good sweat going now.

"How about you eat with us? You haven't come over in awhile. Might as well get used to family dinners if you're going to become part of the family." Barbara found an outfit she liked and laid it on the bed.

"Speaking of, have you figured out how you're going to tell him yet?"

"Working on it. Be patient," she replied.

Dick sighed. "Ugh, I spent a lot of money on that ring. Be nice if you could actually wear it." He stood up again do pull-ups but Barbara came up to him.

Barbara wrapped her arms around her fiancee. "Aw, are you excited to be engaged?" She kissed him again. Slower this time.

Dick kissed her back and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed her a little more intensely now. "Actually..." he said in between kisses "I am... excited by a couple things right now."

Barbara giggled. "I can tell." She grabbed his hand an started pulling him towards the bed.

"What happened to already taking a shower?" He reached up and took off his shirt.

"I saw you doing pushups." Barbara took off her towel. "Dinner tonight?"

"I'm there."

Barbara put her arms around his waist and pulled him onto the bed.

"God dammit!" Jim Gordon yelled. "Son of a bitch!"

Harvey Bullock started laughing. "Jim, you've hit more sand in your life than a fuckin' camel." He and Jim started walking towards the sand trap Gordon had just hit his golf ball into. This was their Sunday golf game, something each man looked forward to all week. They weren't Commissioner Gordon and Detective Bullock right now. They were just Jim and Harv, a couple of buddies playing a round of golf.

"Just hand me a damn beer," Gordon said. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it while Harvey grabbed a couple beers from their travel cooler. Jim gave Harvey the lit cigarette and took the bottle of Bud Light. Gordon took out another smoke and lit it for himself.

"Thanks, Jim." Harvey said as he took a drag. They opened their bottles and took a drink. "Cheers to the greatest game ever."

"Amen. Harvey, you are the sloppiest SOB I know. Yet somehow you are one of the best golfers I've ever seen and an even better cop. It pisses me off!" Both men laughed.

"You're a badass cop. The best I've ever known. But there's a difference between you and me."

"And what's that?" Gordon took a drag off his cigarette as they kept walking.

"Jim, you attack problems like a hurricane. You hate being a cop. You do it out of a sense of duty because you think it's what you're supposed to do. You hate the hours, being commissioner, hate all the bullshit that comes with it. You do the same thing here on the course. You hit that ball because you're supposed to. Your sense of duty is what drives you." Harvey tossed his cigarette down and crushed it under his heel.

"And what drives you, Harvey?" Gordon did the same with his cigarette.

"I just do what I love and don't give a flying fuck about the rest. I learned that after my boy died. I love beer. I love smoking. But the two things I love most in this world are being a cop and golf. I'm good because I love 'em. No better reason than that."

Gordon raised his beer to the sky "Here's to little Jackie for teaching you something. He was a cute little boy."

Harvey raised his own beer. "Yeah, he was," Harvey said as he took a drink. "Fuck leukemia."

"Fuck leukemia," Gordon repeated. Gordon's cell phone began to ring, interrupting the somber moment. He looked at the screen to see who it was. "Hang on, Harv it's Babs. Hey sweetheart, what's up? Yeah, that's fine I'd love to have him over. You okay? You sound out of breath. Okay, then. Alright, I'll see you soon." Gordon hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.

"What's up?" Harvey asked.

"Eh, she just got done running. Wanted to know if her boyfriend could come over for dinner."

"Goin' on two years with them, right?"

"Two and a half, actually."

"Not a bad catch, Jim. Son of a billionaire."

"It's the father I'm more worried about. Nice guy and all, really. But Bruce Wayne is an idiot."

"That he is. Hey, I have an idea." Harvey said as they approached Gordon's ball.

"What's that?"

"You beat me on this hole and I give up a month of vacation days."

"Fuck you, Harvey."

A hundred yards away, two men sat in an old Nissan Maxima watching Bullock and Gordon. They had been following Gordon for three weeks straight now, learning his routine and habits. Gordon bought a pack of cigarettes every other day from the bodega next to One Gotham Plaza. Gordon smoked on the porch of his brownstone every night he was at home. Gordon played golf every Sunday. And most importantly, Gordon apparently had dinner at home with his daughter on Sunday nights.

"Pass me a Coke, man." Rick said to his surveillance partner.

"All we got is Pepsi," Billy replied.

"Whatever, man. Just hand me a soda." Rick took the can from Billy, opened it, and took a drink. "Damn man, I am tired of this. Tired of sandwiches and Cheetos all day. Stakeout food sucks."

"Feels like we're back on the job, huh?" Billy asked.

"Yeah, man. 'Cept this time cops ain't on our side. Look at him, livin the life while we can't even get a fuckin' decent job. You know what pisses me off the most? He rats on us for being dirty while he works with the Bat. If that ain't some mother fuckin' hypocrisy..."

"Heh, no shit. 'Bout to come back on him though. Dude's gonna regret what he did to us for the rest of his life."

"Yeah, he is," Rick smirked. "Joker is one sick fuck. Why the fuck is he so specific about what he wants to do?"

"Beats me. Guy knows what he wants though. Don't deviate from that."

"What're you gonna do with your pay?"

"Gettin' the hell out of the States first. Find some cheap livin down south, ride out my cash. You?"

Rick finished his soda and tossed into the back seat. "A hundred in a safety deposit box for my little girl, and a hut on an island."

"Nice, we can be neighbors."

"Dude, I saw you enough in Blackgate. I hope I never see your ugly ass again after this."

Billy smiled. "Fair enough." His began to ring. Billy took it out, saw it was Flass, and answered it. "Yo, what's up?"

"Hey man, she just gave the green light. Get back here get prepped. We're a go for tonight," Flass said on the other end.

"Copy that. On our way." Billy hung up. He turned to Rick. "You ready for some action?"

"About fuckin' time," Rick said. "Been gettin' blue balls every time I look at Gordon's daughter." Rick smiled sadistically. "That bitch is hot."


	8. The Killing Joke Chapter 6

**6  
SMALL THINGS**

GORDON HOUSE

Barbara Gordon opened the oven and removed the meatloaf she had made. She took it into the dining room and placed it on the table next to the mashed potatoes. The table was fully set now for dinner.

"What's that?" her father asked, pointing to a dish.

"Quinoa and kale salad, Dad," she replied. "It's good for you."

"What the hell is kale?"

"It's the next step up from spinach. I made everything else you like, eat the kale."

"So what's quinoa?"

"Super grain, like rice." Barbara leaned down and kissed her dad on the cheek. "Please just eat it."

Jim smiled at his daughter. "If you say so. When's the kid getting here? I'm starving."

"The 'kid', who happens to be twenty years old, will be here any second. Be patient."

Gordon groaned. The doorbell rang a minute later and Barbara went to answer it and looked through the keyhole. She opened the door to an unfamiliar sight. Dick Grayson was wearing his best Armani tuxedo.

"Hey," Barbara said. "Come on in."

"Hey, babe," said Dick. He stepped into the house and kissed her. "Wow, Babs. You look great."

Barbara spun around, showing off her evening gown. "Thank you, sir. I wanted to be ready so we can go right after dinner. C'mon, Daddy's hungry."

"Ditto."

The couple walked into the dining room together where Jim was already sitting at the table. He stood and walked over to Dick to shake his hand.

"Hey, son. How are you doing?" Gordon asked.

"Good, Jim. Thanks for having me."

"Happy to have you. Let's eat!" The trio laughed and sat down for dinner.

Half a block away the Joker and his men sat in a U-Haul rental truck. They had watched as Dick Grayson parked his black Prius in front of the Gordon house and went inside.

"Who the fuck is that?" Billy asked.

"Daughter's boyfriend," Flass answered. "We might have to scrub tonight. Too risky now," he said to the Joker.

"Let's... wait for a bit," said the Joker. "He was wearing a tuxedo. It wasn't for this. If he leaves with the girl we call it off tonight and wait for another chance." He started cackling. "But boy, oh boy, is this going to be fun!"

Twenty minutes later they were done eating. Dick and Barbara were standing in the living room, about to leave.

"So," Gordon said, "What time does this thing start for you guys?"

"At eight," Dick answered. "Should be done about eleven or midnight. You never know with these things. You can still come if you want, Bruce would love for you be there."

"Sorry Dick, I only put on a tux if I have to. Tell your dad hey for me."

"Will do."

"Dad, you want a beer before I leave?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah thanks, sweetheart."

"Be right back." Barbara turned and headed towards the kitchen.

Gordon turned to Dick. "I would tell you not to drink and drive, but that won't be an issue with you. Never had a drop, huh?"

"Tasted beer once at the circus. The other kids and I stole it from one of the candy butchers, that's what we call the concession vendors, and he caught us. He told my dad and I wasn't allowed to do a show for a month. That was the last time."

"Heh," Gordon said, "someone should have done that for Bruce."

"Daddy!" Barbara exclaimed as she came in with a bottle of Bud Light.

Both men laughed.

"Babs, it's fine," Dick said. "It was funny. Bruce does love his champagne."

"See, honey?" Gordon said to Barbara. "Your old man is funny!" He reached for the beer right as Barbara held it towards him. Jim's aim was off as he reached for the bottle, knocking out of Barbara's hand and spilling most of its contents onto her gown.

"Ah!" Barbara said as she jumped back.

"Oh God, honey. I am so sorry. Let me get you some paper towels," Jim said, mortified.

"Oh, dammit. It won't do any good. I'm soaked. It's okay, I have to change though."

"Make it fast, Babs," Dick said. "We're on a time crunch."

"Dick, I have to treat the stain now, pick out something else to put on, different shoes, jewelry, all that stuff. Just go, I'll meet you there."

Dick looked at his watch and sighed. "Okay, cool. I'll see you there." He turned to Jim and shook his hand. "Thanks again. I had a good time."

"Me too, son. Come over more often. Sorry I ruined your night."

"Not ruined at all, sir." Dick turned to Barbara and kissed her on the cheek. "Love you, see you there."

"Love you, too." she said as Dick left. She watched from the front door as Dick got into his car and drove away. Jim walked back into the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes from the meal.

"Barbara!" Jim yelled into the kitchen. "Dick left his cell phone on the table."

"Okay thanks, Daddy!" she yelled back. "I'll take it with me."

THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

Bruce Wayne walked through the outdoor eating area that had been built for the hospital; the area had been lavishly decorated for the grand opening. Gotham's wealthy and elite strolled around and made small talk as tuxedoed waiters and waitresses walked around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Many of Gotham's rich had generously donated to the funding and building of the hospital after Wayne had declared he would match every donation one hundred percent.

A waitress walked by him and Bruce took a glass of champagne off her tray as he thanked her. He discreetly dropped a small capsule he had been palming into the glass. The capsule was one of half of a drug he had designed that eliminated the effects of alcohol. The other half was a pill he had to take one hour prior to drinking. It would last for approximately three hours before it wore off. The only side effect of the drug was it caused frequent urination, which actually worked in favor of the 'drunk celebrity' facade Bruce had perfected.

Bruce spotted Leslie Thompkins talking with Alfred at a champagne fountain near the back of the area. He walked over to talk to the duo.

"Leslie!" Bruce said as he walked towards her with his arms outstretched.

Leslie walked into Bruce's arms and gave him a hug. "Hi Bruce," she said as she kissed him on his cheek. "It looks beautiful here. This place is amazing. Thank you for doing this."

Bruce Wayne smiled at her. "It wasn't just me. A lot of Gotham pitched in for this."

"This was your idea, that matters a lot." Leslie took his hand in hers. "Your mom and dad would be so proud of you."

Leslie looked at the man she had known since he was born. She had gone to medical school with Thomas Wayne and had became a very close friend of the family after that. Leslie had been at the Wayne's wedding. She was there when Bruce was born. She had grieved with him after the murder of his parents. Leslie had seen the bright, happy boy she knew become sullen and withdrawn after their deaths. She watched him become increasingly obsessed with learning about crime and ways to stop it.

When Bruce decided to leave Gotham at just fourteen years old her heart was broken again. She doubted she would ever see him come back. She was elated when he returned at twenty three. That elation didn't last long. The morose boy she had known returned as a shallow drunk celebrity who ended up in the tabloids for his outrageous acts of stupidity and string of model girlfriends.

Even that disappointment didn't last long. Within a year of Bruce's return she received a desperate phone call in the middle of the night from Alfred. He had asked her to meet him at the Thomas and Martha Wayne Memorial Clinic she had founded on the very spot where the Waynes had been shot and killed. When she arrived at the clinic she found Alfred inside with a very badly wounded Batman. The pieces immediately fell into place for her. The obsession the young orphan had, the disappearance for nine years, and a Bruce Wayne who came back an empty pleasure seeker. She had understood then. Bruce had been on a mission from the time his parents were killed. That mission had evolved into the Batman.

That night, with Alfred's assistance, she used her skills as a trauma surgeon to bring Batman back from the brink of death. Since then she had used her medical skills many times to save Batman and eventually Batgirl and Robin. She didn't approve of Bruce's mission, or of teenagers joining the mission. But she knew that they would continue to fight crime with or without her help. And so Leslie Thompkins became the Team's doctor. Call sign "Panacea".

Bruce smiled down at her. "Thank you, Leslie. That means the world to me." Out of the corner of his eye he saw a red haired man his same age pushing an elderly woman in a wheelchair towards them. "Tommy! Marla! How are you?"

Thomas Elliot shook Bruce and Alfred's hands after he leaned down to kiss Leslie on the cheek. "Hey guys, good to see you."

"Hello everyone," Elliot's mother, Marla said to them.

"Hello dear," Leslie said. "Are you comfortable?"

"Just fine, just fine," she replied. "The chair's great. Wish my son was this nice. Dumb bastard isn't very pleasant to be around, is he?" The group laughed politely. Tommy joined along so they wouldn't feel uneasy.

"I hit a bump a little too quickly with her driving over. She hasn't forgiven me yet," Tommy said. The group laughed again.

"Marla, I have to say you look beautiful tonight," Bruce said. "If you weren't my best friend's mother I would say we should just get out of here." The group laughed genuinely this time.

"And I would!" Marla said. The group laughed again, harder this time.

"Hey guys," Tommy said, "I'm going to take her to our table and go over my speech before we get started. Bruce, see you up there."

"Sounds good," Bruce replied.

Tommy turned his mother around and pushed her wheelchair towards their table.

"Why can't you be more like Bruce?" Marla asked her son when they were out of earshot. "He's so damn charming."

"He's a damn drunk, Mom. Doesn't do anything but get attention any way he can. I'm a goddamn neurosurgeon."

"He's charming," she repeated. " And I like alcohol. You've got the personality of a cardboard box."

"And you're a fucking cunt," Tommy whispered in her ear as they arrived at their table.

Dick Grayson arrived at the hospital and gave his car to the valet. He headed inside and found Leslie, Bruce, and Alfred talking to a middle aged man and his young teen son. Dick grabbed a bottle of water from the bar and walked up to the group.

"Hey, Dick!" the man said as Grayson approached. "Good to see you."

"Hey Jack, hey guys," Dick said as they shook hands. He turned to the man's son. "Hey, Tim. How ya doin'?"

"Hey man," Tim replied.

"Where's Barbara?" Bruce asked.

"Eh, she had to change. Wardrobe malfunction," Dick answered. "She should be here soon."

"Well guys," Jack said to the group "This things about to start. Tim and I are going to find our table."

"Perfect," Bruce said. "Tommy is already over there. Alfred, do you mind showing Jack and Leslie to our table? I'm going to get one more drink before we start."

"Very good sir," Alfred replied. He offered Leslie his arm. "Ma'am?"

"Thank you, Alfred." Leslie took Alfred's extended arm and he walked off, Jack and Tim following.

Dick turned to Bruce after the group had left. "Quite the shindig, Bruce."

Bruce nodded. "It's a good thing for Gotham. It's good to see everyone working together."

"Yeah. Tim still creeps me out, though. Kid's weird."

"We've known them for years. He's a smart kid. Tim thinks you're 'cool'. Jack's never around and he had a hard time after his mother died. He looks up to you."

"I know. But don't you ever get the feeling you're under a microscope when he's around?"

GORDON HOUSE

Jim Gordon was cleaning the last dish from their meal when the doorbell rang. He dried his hands and went to answer it.

"Daddy, I got it!" Barbara yelled from upstairs. She had just finished putting on her new outfit for the opening. "It's probably just Dick coming back for his cell."

"Alright," Gordon answered back.

Barbara ran downstairs and rushed to open the door. "I can't believe you came back for your ce-" she froze as she opened the door.

Barbara was puzzled for a split second. There was a man in a Hawaiian shirt, hat, and cargo shorts. Behind him were three men. _Him? Gun!_ she thought as the Joker fired.


	9. The Killing Joke Chapter 7

_7_  
**HELPLESS**

**GORDON HOUSE**

Barbara felt a sting in her neck and reached up. She pulled out a tiny dart from her throat. She tried to speak but no words would come out. _Dart gun_, she thought. She tried to step backwards to get away, but simply collapsed to the floor. As she fell back, she knocked a vase off the small table next to the door. It shattered on the hardwood floor. _Get up!_ Barbara commanded her body. She could still see, hear, and feel everything, yet her body would not respond.

"Barbara, you drop something?" James Gordon asked as he stepped into the living room. He immediately saw the Joker and three men standing over his daughter. Gordon turned to run and grab his gun in his office but felt a pain in his back as he heard the whisper of Joker's dart gun fire. Jim collapsed to the floor. _Barbara! Oh please God, don't let them kill her!_

**THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL**

"I am so happy to stand before you here tonight," Bruce Wayne told the audience as he stood behind the podium. "Gotham has always been a city of hope. Some of you just raised your eyebrows a bit there, but it's true. Gotham has the most resilient people in this country. The media only seems to present the dark side of Gotham. The East End. The Narrows. Even the murder of my parents. But Gotham also has it's heroes. I'm not talking about the Green Lantern or Justice Society of long ago, or a ridiculous urban myth. I'm talking about the people of Gotham. The unsung heroes who endure tragedy with fierce determination to keep living their lives here. The families. They are the good side of this city and they greatly outnumber the dark side. Gotham is hope. And you people here tonight are also heroes. Your generous donations have allowed this state-of-the-art hospital to become a reality. This hospital is made by the people of Gotham. It uses Drake Medical Technology for it's machines, a Gotham based worldwide company. It's run by Gotham residents. And I am proud to introduce one of those heroes. This is a woman I have known since I was born. Her dedication to all the people of Gotham is unparalleled. Ladies and gentlemen, the head of our board of directors, Dr. Leslie Thompkins!" Bruce and the crowd began to clap.

Leslie made her way up to the podium and gave Bruce a hug. She turned to the audience and began to speak. "Thank you, Bruce. And thank you everyone for being here. I first moved to Gotham after medical school at the urging of Thomas Wayne..."

**GORDON HOUSE**

Billy and Rick stepped over Barbara Gordon as she lay paralyzed on the floor. They picked up Jim and sat him up on his recliner in the living room. Flass grabbed Barbara by the arms and dragged her to the middle of the room. He kicked the coffee table out of the way and dropped her.

The Joker approached Jim; his eyes were darting back and forth between the homicidal clown and his daughter. _Please God I'm begging you, don't let them hurt her! Please, God!_

The Joker swung the butt of the dart gun at Jim's face. An inch long gash on his face started bleeding.

"You... judge me," Joker said. "You call me crazy. Insane. Pretend you're righteous and normal while you work with a man in a costume. You with your beautiful job, your child. The American dream. I had the American dream once. And it was taken from me. I am nothing more than the rational response to one bad day. You, commissioner, are about to have one bad day. You are going to see that's all it takes. You are going to lose like I lost. Then we'll see who's crazy."

_No! No! No!_ Gordon thought. _God, just take me. Please take me! I'll go in her place! Please! Please God, send Batman, a neighbor, anything!_

The Joker dropped the dart gun and took out a small digital camcorder from his pocket. "Neat little drug I made, huh? You can see, hear and feel everything. Goddamn I'm brilliant! Tonight, Jimmy boy, we are going to make a movie! Your dear darling daughter is going to be the star. I'm sure you recognize her three co-stars, right?"

Flass walked up to Jim and bent down, leaving just inches between their faces. "Hey, Jimmy. Long time no see." Tears were now flowing down Jim's face. "It's been a long time because you sent me to prison. Do you know what they do to cops in prison, Jimmy?" Flass smiled. "We're gonna show you. Me, Billy, and Rick. And we're using her for the demonstration."

Flass walked over to Barbara where Rick and Billy were now standing over her. He pulled out a knife from his back pocket and bent down. He began to cut Barbara's gown off of her, shredding it. Flass pulled off the tattered garment leaving her in her bra and panties.

_No!_ Barbara screamed inside her head. _Not this! Please not this! Please not in front of my dad! Dick! Bruce! Please help me! Daddy help me! I can move if I just try hard enough. It's just a matter of will. I can get out of this!_

The Joker started giggling. "Sorry about the dress, Jimbo! Proenza Schouler, right? Don't worry about it. Just bill me."

Flass cut off Barbara's bra and panties. He grabbed Barbara by the hair, pulled her head up and punched her in the nose, breaking it. Blood started flowing and tears streamed down her face. Flass stood up and unbuckled his pants, pulling them and his boxers down. "Remember, Jim. You caused this."

The Joker pointed the camcorder at Flass and Barbara and started recording. "This is going to be a hit on the internet, but we have a theatre set up just for you!" he laughed. "Okay, ready and... action!"

**THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE MEMORIAL CLINIC**

"Thank you," Leslie said as she finished her speech. She walked away and sat down at her table as the crowd started clapping.

Bruce stepped up to the podium once again. "Thank you, Leslie. The Waynes and the Elliots have been friends for generations. When the Elliots had their first son they named him 'Thomas', after my father. Tommy was always the older brother I never had. My father saved his mother's life after the terrible crash that took his father. And Tommy was there for me a few years later. Tommy went on to become a great man. A brilliant man, eventually becoming one of the most innovative and best neurosurgeons on the planet. And that is why I am so proud he agreed to become the chief of neurosurgery for this hospital. I wish I was half the man he has become. Ladies and gentleman, Thomas Elliot!" The crowd began clapping as Tommy made his way to the podium.

"Thank you," Elliot said to the crowd. "This hospital..."

Dick Grayson kept looking over towards the entrance during the speech, hoping to see Barbara. _She shouldn't be this late_, he thought. _Where the hell is she?_

"Something wrong, sir?" Alfred asked.

"No, just looking for Barbara," Dick replied. "She should be here by now."

"Have patience, young man. It's impolite to rush a lady."

"I know, it's just not like her. She would have called you if she was this far behind. Can I borrow your phone? Left mine there."

"Of course, sir." Alfred reached into his pocket and handed Dick his cell phone.

Dick stood up and walked outside to not disturb the speech. He first dialed his own cell number. When it went to voicemail he hung up and dialed Barbara's cell. It rang a few times until the voicemail picked up. Dick pressed one to skip the greeting. "Hey, babe it's me. Where are you? Probably driving or something. Just wanted to make sure you're still going to make it. I'll try your dad's phone." He pressed the 'end' button and dialed Jim Gordon's phone. "Hey Jim, it's Dick. Sorry to bother you. Haven't heard from Barbara. Can you have her call me if you talk to her? Thanks." Dick hung up the phone and made his way back to his seat.

"Well, sir?" Alfred asked.

"No answer. This is irritating. She could at least let me know what's going on." They went back to listening to Tommy as he wrapped up his speech.

"... so thank you, Bruce, thank you, Leslie, thank you, Jack, and thank you to the rest of you that made this dream come true for me and for Gotham." Elliot stepped down from the podium as Bruce once again returned.

"Just a couple more people have something to say folks..." Bruce announced.

"Ugh," Grayson sighed. "I'm heading back over there. Hope they're not having a fight or something. Can I keep your phone?"

"Of course. Well, if you can get her here, please do. We'd love to see her." Alfred said.

"Yeah, I will." Dick got up and went outside to the valet. The valet promptly drove his car up, got out and handed Dick the keys. Dick got into his car and drove away.

**GORDON HOUSE**

Billy got off of Barbara and put his pants back on. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily. "Fuck man, I hate being the last guy. You sure you don't want a turn, sir?"

"Nope!" The Joker said. He handed the camera to Flass who kept recording. Joker walked over to Barbara's naked and bleeding body. He crouched down, bent over her face and looked into her fully aware eyes. "You're not even pretty enough for me to fuck" Joker whispered. He slowly spit in Barbara's face. "Whore."

The Joker stood up and walked over to the commissioner. Joker reached under Jim's shoulders and picked him up. He half carried, half dragged the helpless father over to his nude and bleeding daughter. The Joker got behind Jim and placed a gun in the commissioner's right hand. Joker closed his fist around Jim's and put both their index fingers on the trigger. He guided the hand toward's Barbara's head. _God no! God please no! _the commissioner pleaded in his mind.

"Oh... I bet you are freaking the fuck out right now, huh?" the Joker whispered into Jim's ear. "Something like 'oh please dear God, don't let him make me blow my daughter's cute pink brains all over my nice hardwood floors' or something to that effect. Don't worry, I'm not." The Joker slowly moved the barrel of the gun towards Barbara's stomach, giggled, and fired. Barbara twitched and her eyes rolled up into her head. "That was a gut shot, Commissioner. She is slowly going to bleed to death and it will be very painful. And she is going to die knowing you didn't do anything to save her. Her last moments on earth were hell because you failed as a father. She paid for your sins." The Joker turned back to his men. "And that's a cut! Flass, turn the camera off. You two, roll him up in a carpet and get him into the truck. Both their phones rang while we were filming. Time to leave."


	10. The Killing Joke Chapter 8

**8**  
**SECONDS**

Dick Grayson pulled up to the Gordon house in his Prius. He had tried Barbara's cell phone twice more while driving over. At this point he was getting worried. It wasn't like Barbara to be late. It certainly wasn't like her to be late without a phone call. _Could Jim have had a stroke? Heart attack?_ he thought. If so she might have rushed him to Gotham Presbyterian, the nearest hospital. She could have forgotten her phone during an emergency like that. It was the only explanation he could think of.

He got out of his car, set the alarm and walked up the stone steps to the front door and rang the doorbell. Dick glanced over the front porch of the brownstone. On the welcome mat in front of the door he noticed a few tiny white shards. He bent down and picked a sliver up. Something broken. _Ceramic maybe?_ He looked up and inspected the door. There was a small reddish brown smudge on the brass door handle. _Blood? Barbara could handle any intruder, no sign of forced entry._ _This doesn't make sense._ Dick stood up and tried the door handle. To his surprise it was unlocked. Another bad sign. The Gordons didn't leave their house unlocked. He gingerly opened the door, peering in.

"Hello?" he said loudly. Dick looked down and immediately took in the scene. The vase that had rested on the small table next to the door lay shattered in the entry way. Dick stepped through cautiously, his senses on high alert now. He took in every sight, smell and sound instantaneously. He walked a few steps further into the house and was horrified at what he saw. The living room was in shambles. The coffee table was flipped over, broken glass was all over the floor. In the middle of the room Barbara Gordon lay unconscious, nude, and surrounded by a pool of blood.

"Barbara!" Dick gasped as he ran to her bleeding body. Her entire body was pale and blood was slowly coming out of a gunshot wound on her stomach. He could tell her nose had been broken, leaving her entire face covered in blood. Dick took off his tuxedo jacket and used it to stem the flow of bleeding from the wound. _Okay, she's bleeding. Good. That means she's alive. Oh God baby, what the fuck happened here? Please hold on!_ He held the shirt over her stomach with his left hand and used his right hand to call 911 on Alfred's cell phone.

Jim Gordon could feel the rhythm of the rental truck as it bounced down the freeway. He was rolled up in a section of carpet Billy and Rick had cut from the floor of his home. He could barely hear anything and couldn't see at all. Breathing was even difficult like this. He was still reeling from what he had just been forced to witness. His own daughter had been raped and murdered in front of him. Men he had known had assaulted her. It was inconceivable to him. Flass and his crew had been dirty and corrupt, but he had no idea they were capable of this type of violence. What they had done to Barbara while she lay there helpless... he felt a fresh flow of warm tears fall down his cheeks. And yet, somehow that wasn't the worst part. The Joker had killed her. He had mercilessly shot her in cold blood, and made sure she died slowly and in horrible pain. _I'm going to kill you, he thought. I'm going to kill all of you. No matter what it takes. If it's the last thing I do I will kill you all._

After a while the truck finally stopped. Gordon heard the back door to the van roll up. He felt himself being picked up by one of the crooked cops, but couldn't tell which one. They walked for a minute and went up a flight of stairs. He felt himself being dropped and landed with a thud on the ground, knocking the air out of him.

"Be careful!" he heard a muffled female voice say. "He's no good if he has a concussion."

Gordon felt himself being unrolled. He squinted his eyes at the bright lights burning his eyes as he lay on his back. A woman leaned over him and shone a penlight into his eyes as she felt the pulse on his wrist.

"Hiya, Commissioner!" Harley said. "Ya feelin' okay? Nevermind, you can't say shit right now. Flass, put him on the bed."

Arnie walked over and picked up Gordon's paralyzed body. He took him over to a bed in the corner of the room and dropped him onto it. Flass grabbed Gordon by the face and looked into his eyes.

"Bet you wish you had never fucked with me now, huh Jimmy? Never thought you'd see my dick in your little girl." Flass used zip-ties to cuff Gordon's hands and feet to the bed. "I'm gettin' hard again just thinkin' about it."

The Joker came over and sat down on the bed next to Gordon. "You need some rest, Commissioner. You seem a little frazzled. That was a hell of a shoot, right? Get it? 'Shoot'? But I gotta say, your daughter has no future in porn. She just laid there! Hahahahahahaha! Harley, get this man some rest."

Harley Quinn walked over to Gordon's side. She rolled up his sleeve on his right arm. She took an alcohol wipe from the doctor's bag she had next to her and swabbed his arm right at the elbow. She dropped the used pad, reached into the bag and held up a needle filled with a clear liquid. Harley looked at the needle as she thumped it to remove any dangerous air bubbles. She stuck the needle into his arm and depressed the plunger. Immediately Gordon's vision became blurry. Sounds started to distort. Within a few seconds James Gordon mercifully passed out.

GOTHAM PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL

Dick sat in the waiting area of the emergency room of the hospital. He was a horrible mess. His tuxedo shirt was almost completely red from blood and the jacket he had used to stop the bleeding was still with Barbara when she had been put into the ambulance. The room was filled dozens of police both in and out of uniform. They had come as soon as they heard their commissioner and his daughter were attacked. Nothing mobilized the blue community as much as an attack on their own.

There were also a few civilian patients scattered about. Mothers held their fevered children. Two boys sat with their father. The boys each had long gashes on their foreheads yet were laughing and playing with each other. Dick assumed the brothers had just gotten hurt playing. Their father looked more worried than they did. In the corner of the waiting room a young woman sat curled up in a ball, moaning in pain.

Dick looked at two police officers in the corner that he had come in with. Officers Head and Montoya had been the first responders to the Gordon house after his 911 call. They had stayed with Dick as he watched the EMTs work on Barbara before they loaded her into the ambulance. The officers let Dick ride in the back of their unit as they followed the ambulance to the hospital. They had asked him a few cursory questions along the way, but all he could tell them was he found her like this and the commissioner wasn't anywhere inside the house.

Dick heard the automatic doors open and looked up. Bruce, Alfred, Tommy, and Leslie all walked in together. Dick stood and walked towards them. Leslie came up to Dick and put her arms around him.

"Oh God, sweetheart," she said as she hugged him. "I am so sorry. I don't know what to say."

"Thanks for coming, guys," Dick said quietly.

"Of course, sir," Alfred said. "Is there any word on her condition?"

"Nothing. They won't tell me anything except that she's in surgery and they're doing everything they can."

"Tommy, you used to work here," Bruce said. "Think you can find out what's going on?"

"On it. Dick, trust me. I was here for years. This hospital has some of the best doctors around. I trained half of them." He put his hand on Dick's shoulder reassuringly. "She's in good hands. I'll be back." Tommy headed off to the nurse's station to find out more about Barbara's status.

Once Tommy was out of earshot Bruce addressed the group. "Okay, give me an assessment. What happened?"

"Not sure," Dick said. "No sign of forced entry, but there was blood on the door handle. There was some sort of struggle inside. A vase was smashed, coffee table was turned over, broken glass everywhere. I found her nude, GSW to the abdomen. No sign of Jim. There was a section of carpet missing. Big enough to roll up a body. Looks like a snatch. She wasn't the target. They left her to die and took him." Dick relayed the information in a cold, tactical manner. He had been trained to shut down his emotions during times of stress in order to analyze the information to solve the problem.

"Alfred, Leslie, can you give us a minute?" Bruce said to them. He waited until they had stepped away and turned to Dick. "She was nude, do you suspect sexual assault?"

Dick took a long breath in and slowly let it out. He had been focused on saving Barbara and evaluating the crime scene in the little time he had before the emergency responders arrived. He had avoided contemplating the other observations about Barbara.

"Yeah, I do. Clothing was ripped off, lying next to her. There was... bruising along the thighs." Now that he had said it out loud the thought finally hit him. It was an onslaught of emotion he wasn't prepared for. Dick slumped into a chair behind him. "Oh, God..." He breathed in and out steadily, trying to calm himself.

Bruce sat next to him. "Dick, all eyes are on you right now. Your training is working against you. Robin is trained to handle extreme duress. Dick Grayson is not. You're the grieving boyfriend. Play the part."

"Jesus..." Dick said as he looked at Bruce. "Play the part? She was raped and nearly killed, Bruce. It's not a 'part' for me."

"You understand my intent here. Don't risk exposure of training." They both noticed Tommy heading towards them. Dick and Bruce stood up as he approached.

"Okay guys, some good news," Tommy told them. "I talked to Sandy, one of our nurses. Barbara is still in surgery, but they think she's going to pull through. I can't tell you how lucky she is. The bullet went straight through, didn't hit any vital organs, didn't even hit an artery. If it had she'd be dead. There was no hydrostatic shock - sorry, that's where the energy from the projectile ruptures the organs. Anyway, none of that. That's a miracle in and of itself." He looked down at the floor and sighed, sadness on his face.

"There's bad news too, isn't there?" Dick asked Tommy.

"Look, nothing is certain right now. They haven't been in there that long. There might be some spinal trauma but they're going to have to do some tests. Their on-call neuro is Dr. Sharpe. She's as good as it gets. Once she's had more time with Barbara we'll know more."

"Can't you do it?" Bruce asked.

"Bruce, I had alcohol at the hospital opening. I can't do surgery." Tommy looked towards Dick. "I would if I could. But Dr. Sharpe is a great surgeon."

"Excuse me," a voice behind the trio said. They turned around to see a disheveled, overweight man wearing a Gotham Rogues jersey and baseball cap. "I'm Detective Bullock. I'm sorry, Mr. Grayson. I need you to come with me. We need to get a witness statement and an interview."

"Right now? Can't it wait until she's out of surgery?"

"There's nothing you can do for her right now, son. We need to talk to you while everything is fresh in your head. The longer we wait, the less accurate your memory can be. We want to catch the bastard that did this. You can help with that."

"Yeah, okay..." Dick relented. He knew Bullock was right. Time at the hospital was time that could be spent tracking down the Gordon's attackers. "Give me a second, sir. I need to talk to my dad."

"Make it fast, kid. Seconds count right now," Bullock replied. He turned and walked over towards the exit.

"Tommy, call me if anything changes," Dick said.

"Of course."

"Bruce, I'll call you after I'm done with the cops."

"I'm heading back to the penthouse, Dick. I'll have Alfred stay here and wait for any word. Come back to the penthouse after you're done. You need some rest."

Dick nodded and walked off to join Detective Bullock. He knew Bruce didn't want him to come back to sleep. As soon as he was done with the police he would head to the Bunker to change into his uniform. Batman and Robin had a manhunt to start. There would be no rest until Gordon was found.


	11. The Killing Joke Chapter 9

**9**  
**HUNT**

"Waypoint reached," Batman said. "Drop the sub."

"Copy," Robin replied. He put on the mouthpiece of his LAR V Draeger rebreather.

The LVD was a closed circuit SCUBA device that ran on all oxygen. His expelled breath was recycled into the closed circuit where it was filtered for carbon-dioxide. This completely eliminated expelled bubbles which could give away his position. With a maximum depth of 70 feet, the LAR V Draeger rebreather was perfect for shallow water operations.

Robin pushed the button to flood the cockpit of his custom designed underwater sea sled. The cold Atlantic Ocean came rushing in, shocking his body for a split second despite the custom designed wetsuit he wore underneath his uniform. The sled was slightly larger than a torpedo, big enough for just one person and perfect for delivering an operative close to shore undetected. The back hatch opened and Robin pushed back until he was fully in the water. He couldn't see Batman twenty five yards to his left, but knew that he had done the same. Robin checked his GPS on the HUD of the lenses in his goggles and swam the remaining two hundred yards to shore of the seven acre island.

The Iceberg Lounge was one of Gotham's premiere nightclubs for the elite. It was located on a small island a mile Northeast from the Gotham main island and could only be accessed by ferry. Aside from the dancing and food, it was also the premiere spot in Gotham to find out where to acquire just about any illegal substance, weapon, or activity. If you wanted anything and you had the money the Iceberg Lounge was the place to go. The distance from Gotham proper made it impossible for the police to perform a surprise raid or conduct proper surveillance. All visitors to the Lounge went through a thorough search before being permitted to enter or leave. Cell phones were the only electronic devices allowed for guests.

The Lounge was owned and operated by Oswald Cobblepot. His family had been in Gotham for generations, having come over from England after World War I had destroyed much of Europe. The Cobblepots arrived in America just as Prohibition had begun. Seeing a huge potential for profit, they thrived off the production and distribution of their black market liquor. Eventually the family branched out into other illegal contraband and ran most of the black market in Gotham while becoming the premiere legitimate import/export company on the East Coast. The Cobblepots were nearly as wealthy and influential as the Waynes.

Oswald had caused many problems for Batman over the years. High priced lawyers, bribes, and outright violence had kept Cobblepot out of prison. He ruled his empire from the offices of the Iceberg Lounge, always wearing his tuxedo as a symbol of the class of his establishment. The constant formal attire the short, fat man wore was the reason the Team had assigned Cobblepot the codename PENGUIN. A state of the art security team swept the premises for listening and recording devices twice a day. Armed guards roamed the island around the clock. The Team had rehearsed this many times over the years. Batman had created numerous protocols to in preparation for a variety of situations. There were multiple operations planned for the Iceberg Lounge. They varied depending on mission objective and Team member availability. This particular protocol was designated Operation: ARCTIC SHOCK.

Robin came up on the shore and crawled on his stomach onto the small stones that surrounded the island. The stones went on for ten yards after which a two foot stone wall surrounded the entire perimeter of the island. He pulled off his goggles and SCUBA gear and set them on the ground. Robin took the waterproof bag strapped to his stomach and opened it up. He took out his utility belt and cape and put them on, putting the diving gear in the bag and placing it underwater just out of sight.

"Eagle, this is Robin. I'm at the objective. You got eyes on?"

"Robin, I see you. Batman is onshore, taking care of a sentry."

"Copy that."

The Team had a drone in the air that had been prepped and ready for this specific mission. Alfred was piloting the drone remotely from the Bunker below Wayne Tower. He had a real time visual of the entire island and the team.

The last ferry to the main island had left twenty minutes ago after the club had closed. It was nearly three in the morning and there were only employees and Cobblepot left. If Gordon had been kidnapped by a local hire, odds are Oswald would have heard something.

"Team, Batman. One sentry down. I have his radio, patching it into our com system. Eagle, how many exterior tangos left?"

"Two at the security shack, three roaming the perimeter, two at each of the four exits."

"Copy. Robin, hit the shack. Notify when objective complete."

"Copy you."

The island had a docking port for only one ferry at a time. Once guests disembarked they made their way to a security checkpoint that was simply a two man building. It housed monitors for the cameras set up throughout the island as well as the communications for all exterior guards.

The first priority was to disable security cameras and communication. Robin crawled along the bottom of the wall, keeping an eye on the angle of the cameras. It was a stop and move process. He moved slowly, ducking down every time a camera would turn his way.

"Robin, stop," he heard Eagle say in his earpiece. "Roaming sentry approaching from your rear."

"Can he see me?"

"Not yet. He's coming around now."

Robin laid as flat as he could against the short wall. The man in the suit was smoking a cigarette as he lazily strolled around the path. _Idiot_, Robin thought. The light from the cigarette was damaging the guard's night vision every time it flared up. It was dark in this section, the intermittent exterior lights were not enough to cover the whole perimeter. Robin could now hear the footsteps coming towards him.

"Robin, hold. He won't be able to see you if you hug the wall. Stay low, I'll cue you."

Robin didn't respond in order to maintain silence. The footsteps were closer now. Robin heard the man above him walk slowly and steadily past.

"Robin, wait one. Camera's looking right at him. Wait. Camera's turning. Go."

Robin jumped over the wall and quickly and quietly came up behind the guard. He stood and using his right foot kicked the back of the guard's left knee. The man fell backwards and Robin quickly wrapped his right arm around the man's throat, using his elbow joint like a vise. He instantly cut off the man's circulation to his carotid artery. The man struggled for nearly ten seconds before passing out. He hardly made a sound.

Robin quickly carried the unconscious body back to where he had been waiting and placed him there. The wall would obstruct the view of the camera. He dropped next to the man and lay down flat just as the camera swiveled his way. While he was waiting for the camera to turn away he took a picture of the unconscious man with the lens in his mask.

"Eagle, ID this guy ASAP."

"Already running the image. Robin, you look to be clear to the shack except for cameras."

"Thanks, Eagle. Batman, what's your twenty?"

"I'm north side wall. Soon as security is down will take out remaining sentries."

"On it."

Robin came up to the small building on the other edge of the island. He had carefully avoided the cameras the entire way, but now there was no way around them. If he came within twenty feet of the shack he would be seen. He activated the zoom feature on his lenses and looked at the guards through the window. They were sitting in front of a row of monitors, barely paying attention. The monitors were broken up into sections corresponding to areas of the island.

"Eagle, got an ID on that guy?"

"Peter Wilding. Thirty seven. Marine. Iraq vet. Honorable discharge. Later went to Blackgate for grand larceny, assault, kidnapping."

"Perfect. Patch me in to their system."

"You're in."

"Hey guys, there's a fuckin' cat," Robin said in a hoarse whisper.

"Who is this?" one of the guards responded over the radio.

"Pete. There's a fuckin' cat. How'd a cat get on this island?"

"Pete, you okay? You sound sick."

"Smokin' too much or something," Robin replied. "I saw a cat though. South side. You guys see it?"

"No, but if Ozzie sees we let a damn cat through security we're fucked. Find it."

"I'm looking."

Robin removed an inch thick disc speaker from a pouch on his utility belt. He tossed the disc a few feet out of range of the camera. He pulled out a tiny fob from his belt, adjusted the setting, and hit a button. The speaker emitted a the sound of a cat meowing several times.

"Pete, nevermind. We hear it outside," the guard said into his walkie. He stood up out went outside to catch the cat. "I got this, animals love me."

"Yeah dude, you're Jack Hanna," the other guard said. "Just fuckin' get the cat."

"Don't be jealous of my pussy skills, man," Jose said as he opened the door. His partner laughed.

"We'll see."

Jose walked towards the sound of the cat. He heard it meow again but there wasn't enough light to see by. He walked further away from the shack. Once he was out of sight of the camera Robin raised his gauntlet and fired a silent CO2 propelled tranquilizer dart into the man's neck. Jose fell to the ground unconscious before he registered anything was wrong. Each gauntlet the Team wore held three taser darts and three tranquilizer darts. They had a range of twenty five yards and extra darts could be added to belts if the mission called for it. Robin had ten darts of each in another pouch on his belt. Robin quickly removed the used dart from the guard's neck and stored it. It was standard operating procedure to leave as little technology behind as possible.

Robin picked up the speaker and placed it back into his belt. He waited and watched the remaining guard through the window. The guard was watching the monitors and would see if he approached the door.

"Yo, it's Pete. I saw it again. South side."

"I'm lookin'..."

Robin watched as the guard took his eyes off the monitors to the shack. He immediately ran as fast as he could towards the front door, kicked it in and rolled into the room. The guard yelped and dropped his coffee mug. Before it had even landed Robin was moving towards the guard. Robin performed a powerful roundhouse to the guard's right thigh. As the guard fell over Robin swung his right elbow into the man's left temple. He fell to the floor unconscious.

"Batman, guardhouse neutralized. Patching into the system now."

"Copy, Robin. I've got the remaining sentries," Batman said.

"Okay, all cameras are looping. We're good out here. Link up West side."

The security inside the main building would now only see a loop of the exterior grounds. Batman went to the west side of the island and met up with Robin. They made their way silently to the west entrance of the building, sticking to the shadows as they crept along.

"I'll take the left one, you take right," Batman said when they were within range of the two men guarding the door. "On me."

Batman raised his gauntlet and aimed for his target as Robin did the same. Robin fired his dart a split second after Batman and the two guards fell to the ground unconscious. Batman went up to the door and pulled out a small canister from his belt. He flipped up a nozzle on the can and sprayed a paste in between the two doors. Within ten seconds the epoxy had expanded and hardened, sealing the two doors shut together. The duo repeated the process on the rest of the guards at the other exits, finishing at the south entrance but not sealing it shut. Phase one of their mission was complete.

GOTHAM PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL

Barbara Gordon slowly opened her eyes. She was confused. _I'm groggy... why_ _am I groggy?_ I never wake up gro- Immediately everything about the attack came back to her. The doorbell. The assault. The shot. The entire sequence played flawlessly in her mind. She immediately began crying, cursing her perfect memory.

She took a few breaths to try and calm herself. She assessed the situation. _I'm_ _alive? How am I alive? I'm on my back. I'm in a hospital. It's dark outside. How long have I been out? I'm alive. _She had assumed when the Joker fired that she was going to die. It was her last memory. _I'm alive. My entire body hurts. Why_ _am I so groggy? Medication. I must be on medication._ She lifted her head slightly and looked around. There was an IV attached to her arm and machines and monitors on both sides of her hospital bed. A clear plastic pitcher filled with water and clear plastic cups were on a small table to the left of her bed.

_So thirsty... _She tried to sit up in her bed. A wave of pain hit her through the medicated haze. Her face hurt. Her head hurt. Her stomach hurt. She felt around and found the nurse call button near her bed. She pushed a few times and set it down.

Less than a minute later a woman in pink scrubs walked into her room. She checked the readouts on various monitors.

"Barbara, my name is Sandy. I'm a nurse. You're in a hospital. You've just had major surgery. How are you feeling?"

"Thirsty."

Sandy filled a plastic cup with water and put straw into it. She held the straw to Barbara's mouth and let her drink. After a few sips Barbara nodded her head and  
Sandy set the cup down.

"Thank you. What hospital is this?" Barbara asked. She found it difficult to even speak she was so exhausted.

"Gotham Presbyterian."

"How long have I been here?"

"You came in last night. Your mother and your brother are here."

"What about my dad?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I haven't heard if your dad is here."

Barbara could tell she was lying. Oh God, he's dead. My dad is dead... She closed her eyes and exhaled. Her face was a mask of pain both physical and emotional.

There was a knock on the door of the room and a woman stepped in. She was wearing slacks and a button down blouse. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"Hi, I heard you were awake. My name's Doctor Sharpe. I was one of your surgeons."

"Hey. How badly was I hurt?" Barbara knew that a shot to the stomach could take months or maybe even a year to recover from. Yet she had survived, which meant that the bullet had most likely missed vital organs or arteries. Her main concern now was helping Batman catch the Joker. She wanted to be back on her feet as soon as possible to start the recovery.

"We're still looking into that. It's going to take some time to know how extensive the damage was. I have to say, you're a remarkably lucky woman. Millimeters made the difference here."

Barbara watched Doctor Sharpe's face as she spoke. People subconsciously showed their true feelings with micro expressions - brief, involuntary facial expression shown on the face. They literally could last less than a twentieth of a second. But if you trained for countless hours with the Facial Action Coding System and knew what to look for, it was nearly impossible to be fooled by someone. What Barbara saw was sadness.

"I need you to tell me," Barbara stated emphatically. "She's not telling me something about my dad," she said, indicating the nurse, "and you're not telling me something about my surgery."

"Another doctor is joining us so we can talk about that. If you want your mom-"

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"Barbara, I-"

"_What kind of doctor are you_?"

Caroline Sharpe dreaded discussions with patients just out of surgery for this very reason. It was best to have family and another doctor, preferably a staff psychologist or psychiatrist in the room when delivering bad news, especially to someone so young. There was a point where withholding information became more detrimental to the patient than waiting for the "right" time. Some patients wanted the cold, hard truth. She admired the strength and bravery that took. She saw it in Barbara Gordon.

"I'm a neurosurgeon."

"Neuro?" Barbara was confused for a moment. "But I was shot in my stom- oh God... my spine?"

Doctor Sharpe nodded. "You have what's called an L1,2 spinal cord injury..."

Barbara listened as the doctor explained the extent of her injuries. As the doctor explained Barbara knew that her life as she knew it would never be the same. She would never be Batgirl again.

ICEBERG LOUNGE

Robin opened his utility belt and removed a three foot long cord attached to a small controller the size of a cell phone. The fiberscope had a wide angle lens attached to the end of the cord. The controller allowed the scope to move around like a snake, hence the nickname "snake cam". The controller relayed the image to his mask lens and had thermal and night vision options.

He pushed the cord through a space underneath the bottom of the door and looked into the hallway on the other side. It looked empty and he checked in all three vision modes to make sure.

"Entry clear," Robin said.

"Work quickly." Batman fired his grapple towards the top of the iceberg shaped glass building and ascended.

Robin put the snake cam back into his belt and searched the unconscious guard for his keys. He took the keys and unlocked the door and quietly made his way inside.

He had memorized the floor plan of the entire structure years ago. The Team had access to the blueprints of nearly every building in Gotham City. The image could be overlaid on his HUD in his lenses but the Team preferred to keep their minds sharp and not rely on technology if preferable.

He walked down the hallway and went through the first door on his right, entering a stairwell. Robin cautiously went down the stairs to the basement level of the building. As he approached the electrical room he heard a giggle followed by a grunt from the room. He put his ear to the door and listened. He slowly opened the door and looked inside.

Just as he thought, there was a security guard and one of the club's cocktail waitresses on the floor having sex. They were oblivious to his presence. Robin almost felt bad for what he was about to do. He raised his gauntlet and fired quickly twice. The couple went unconscious and stayed in their intimate position. _That'll be an awkward wakeup._ He stepped over the couple and up to the electrical control system to finish phase two of the mission.

Batman finished placing the final charge on the glass rooftop of the club. He took out a wallet sized device from his belt and waited for Robin to check in.

"Charges set," Robin said into the radio.

"Copy. Charges set. Jammer ready, charges set on roof."

"Copy."

Robin made his way back up the stairs and into the corridor. He came up to the double doors of the kitchen and looked through the clear plastic window. Two workers were inside. One was cleaning glasses and dishes, the other was mopping the floor. Robin casually stepped inside and fired a stun dart into each man. Both men dropped as the dart delivered an electric shock to their system. One of the men began moaning loudly and Robin quickly ran over and kicked the helpless man in the jaw. He felt bone crack underneath his boot. The man fell silent.

Robin crouched down and waited. The worker had been entirely too loud and someone was bound to hear. He heard footsteps from the exit into the main dining area of the club. Another cocktail waitress walked into the kitchen. Robin raised his gauntlet and fired a tranq dart, but she stepped sideways as he fired. The dart hit the wall behind her and fell to the floor.

Shit. Sorry lady, gotta do this the hard way. She had to be kept silent or she could blow the whole operation, putting both he and Batman in lethal danger. Robin jumped out of his crouch and kicked her in the stomach. She grunted and fell to the floor, the wind knocked out of her. She opened her mouth to scream but couldn't make a sound. She would have a bruise in a few hours but would be okay. He quickly picked her up and carried her to the walk in freezer. He opened up the freezer and sat her down on the floor. Robin grabbed her face and looked hard into her eyes. She had tears streaming down her face.

"Make a sound and I will come back for you. Nod your head if you understand."

The young woman nodded her head vigorously. He turned and walked out. The stunned kitchen worker was standing up and leaning against the kitchen island, obviously shaken.

"You. Drag him into the freezer. Shut the door. Don't come out until someone lets you out." The worker nodded and did as Robin said. Engaging civilians was supposed to be avoided at all costs but sometimes it happened during missions. The Team hated those instances and did everything they could not to hurt non-combatants. They had never permanently injured a civilian. Still, it never felt good.

Robin went to the kitchen exit and peeked through the doors. He could see most of the dining area both bars, and the dance floor. There was a second level that surrounded the main atrium where guests could dance, grab a drink from the third bar or just watch the people on the floor below. All four walls and the roof where made of oddly cut glass giving it a frosted icy look.

"Batman, I see seven tangos all over the main room. PENGUIN is sitting at the main bar. He's reading something on an iPad. They look to be just hanging out. Sending to your HUD."

Batman's cowl HUD displayed the view from Robin's lens. "I see it. Going loud on you."

"Ten seconds. Set."

Batman activated the signal jammer on his belt. All communication within a three hundred yard radius was now blocked. Robin took the detonator out of his belt and pushed the button. There was an immediate muffled rumble throughout the club and electricity to the entire island was cut off. They both switched to nightvision lenses.

"What the fuck?" the guard closest to Cobblepot said.

"Someone get a fucking flashlight and get down to the electrical room!" PENGUIN screamed.

"The fuck?" another guard said. "I'm trying to call Jose outside. Phone won't work."

Another guard used a flashlight app on his phone to light the way. "I'm heading down there, something probably blew," he said as he walked towards the kitchen. He stepped through the door and walked five feet before Robin choked him out from behind.

"One enemy down."

"Good, get ready. Sleet's coming," Batman said. He removed another detonator from his belt and depressed the button. The glass ceiling shattered as the charges went off, causing sheets of glass to rain down on the remaining six men. They dove for cover under tables and put their arms protectively over their heads.

"What the fuck?" Cobblepot said. "Everyone, outside!" They all took out their phones and went for the North exit of the club.

"It's sealed shut!" another man said as he pushed on the door. "We're fuckin' trapped!"

The final phase of the operation was designed in stages to incrementally elevate fear. First there was darkness when the electricity was out. Second was exposure when the roof was blown. Third was the fear of being trapped by the sealed doors. There was more to come.

"Shield your eyes," Batman said over the com. He was looking down from the edge of the roof into the club, completely unseen.

"Shielded."

Batman dropped three flashbang grenades into the room. He had waited until the pupils on the targets had dilated to maximize the grenade's effect. There were intense bright flashes followed by deafening explosions. Cobblepot and his men were now blind and deaf. Batman dropped through the roof and attacked. He swiftly and brutally took down each man with merciless blows to their pressure points in the neck and head. The literally didn't see or hear it coming.

Robin simply stood and watched. As expected, two men burst through the door on the opposite end of the dance floor that led to the VIP room and security center beyond that. Robin quickly went at them. They were both down in seconds.

"Two tangos down!" Robin yelled.

"Clear," Batman stated. PENGUIN was the only one still conscious. He was cowering under a table near the bar. His vision was slowly returning, but he still couldn't see in the dark. Batman walked over to him and picked him up with one hand, lifting Cobblepot completely off the ground. Robin stood and watched silently.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Cobblepot snarled. "What the flying fuck is this?"

Batman didn't say a word. He fired his grapple gun at the roof and quickly went up, still holding on to Cobblepot with one hand. Once they reached the top he hauled PENGIUN over to the edge and held him over.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Batman had never assaulted the Lounge before. Had he finally gone insane? _Is he going to kill me? _"What? What did I do?"

"Joker."

"What about him?"

"Did he contact you recently?"

Now Cobblepot understood. The Joker was on the loose and the Batman was desperate to capture him. All this had been to scare him into revealing what he knew about Joker. He regained his composure and looked the Batman directly into his lenses. There might be an advantage to play here.

"Maybe. But I need you to lay off of me for a bit if I'm going to help you."

Batman reached down and grabbed two of Cobblepots fingers, jerking them sideways violently. They made the sound of twigs snapping.

"God fuck!" he screamed. Batman slapped him hard across the face.

"Joker."

"No, alright! No..."

Batman scanned PENGUIN's face. He was telling the truth. The Gotham skyline stretched out behind them. Suddenly, the Batsignal filled the sky. Someone at One Gotham Plaza wanted to talk to him. Batman dropped Cobblepot on the edge of the roof and glided down to Robin.

"Hey! Help me down!" Ozzie said. Batman ignored him.

"Signal's on," Batman said as he landed.

"What did he say?" Robin asked.

"Dead end. Time to exfil."

"Batman and Robin," Eagle said over the coms "Batgirl is requesting contact with Robin. Repeat: Batgirl requesting contact."

The duo looked at each other. Barbara obviously was awake and had called looking for Dick Grayson.

"Copy. Standby," Batman said. He looked to Robin. "Go. See if she has any intel. I'll handle the signal."

Robin nodded. "Okay. I'll report back if there's anything."

They both turned and went towards the South exit to recover their gear and sea sleds and head back to the yacht they had launched from a few miles away. It had been a frustrating night. The entire protocol had been initiated and exposed with no results. They hoped Barbara or the police would have better news.


	12. The Killing Joke Chapter 10

**10**  
**FINALITY**

The Batman quietly landed on the roof of the building opposite of One Gotham Plaza. He could see down onto the roof of OGP where the Batsignal was shining from. The Batsignal had been Gordon's idea years ago. He had other ways to contact Batman, but the signal was as much for Gotham as it was for Batman. He knew the bat was a powerful symbol to the city. The signal told the citizens of Gotham the Batman was out there. It was a message to the people that preyed on the citizens.

After Gordon had installed the signal Batman had installed pressure pads and signal jammers on every rooftop with a line of site to the OGP. Fear of electronic eavesdropping or snipers had initially been a concern. After the pads were installed there had been one reporter and one sniper within the first year. Batman had engaged and handled both and they spread the word to their respective communities that it was not a good idea to try to spy on police headquarters. Batman looked down to the signal and activated the zoom on his lenses. Detective Bullock was standing by the signal, smoking a cigarette.

Bullock was not a fan of the Batman. He believed the vigilante made a mockery of the police department. Batman was supposed to be a necessity because he stopped crime and criminals when police couldn't. But the police were bound by the rules while Batman wasn't. It was an unfair comparison of abilities when the rules only applied to one. As far as Harvey was concerned, Batman made the public look at the police as weak and ineffective. The citizens of Gotham respected the police less because of Batman. It made things more dangerous for the average cop. Criminals didn't fear the police as much as they should now. The Gotham police department solved hundreds of murders a year. They investigated robberies, rapes, assaults and put the criminals behind bars every day. Yet the officers and detectives responsible for making Gotham safer didn't get the same level of recognition. They hardly ever made the news. Sensationalistic superheroes made the news, not the every day real heroes. His intense dislike of the vigilante was the biggest thorn in his friendship with James Gordon. They had actually almost come to blows on more than one occasion over Gordon's support of the vigilante. Over the years both had learned to avoid the subject as much as possible with each other.

Harvey himself had broken a few rules during his career as a police officer, but it was for the extreme cases, not just whenever he pleased. It was one of the reasons he would never really advance much more in his career as a cop. That was fine with him. He would much rather be on the street actually solving crime than behind a desk doing paperwork. Harvey Bullock was a cop, not an administrator. He respected his superiors and admired their ability to lead. But leading an entire police force was not something he could ever see himself doing. A squad was one thing. An entire department was another.

Bullock hated that he had turned on the signal. He felt like he was betraying the GCPD and himself. But he considered kidnapping of Commissioner Gordon to be an extreme case. Finding Gordon was the number one priority of the department and over a dozen agents from the FBI had also been called in. Still, when it came to the Joker no one had as much experience or expertise as the Batman.

"Detective," the shadowyl voice said.

Bullock turned around and faced the Batman. He had only been this close to him a handful of times over the years and despite his contempt for Batman he still looked at the vigilante in awe. It was easy to see why criminals were terrified. The Batman looked like the supervillian, not the superhero. Those cold, gray eyes (were they just lenses in his mask?) were darker than the cold, gray flesh of his face that was showing. Bullock had often wondered if Batman's entire body was gray. What is he underneath that mask? Mutant? Demon? Bullock shook the thought away and addressed Batman.

"I called you because I need your help. Don't know if you even watch the news but-"

"I know about Gordon missing."

"Right. But I doubt you know about his daughter. We kept that out as best we could. The news only showed her being carried out in an ambulance."

"What about her?" Batman asked, though he thought he already knew the answer. He wasn't prepared to hear what came next.

"Her spinal cord was severed by a gunshot. She's never going to walk again."

Although he showed no visible reaction the news hit Batman as hard as any kick or punch he had ever received. _Barbara... no..._

"She was also raped," Harvey continued, "We found DNA from three separate semen samples." He handed Batman a file folder with the rap sheets of Arnie, Rick, and Billy. "You should remember these three, Gordon took them down about a year after you appeared. We thought it was the Joker at first, now we're not so sure. These guys have a hell of a motive and the ability to do it. We already got warrants and hit all their places. Nothing. We interviewed her boyfriend and talked to her after she woke up from surgery, neither could tell us a thing. Maybe you can do better."

"Why come to me?"

Harvey shrugged. "After what these guys did my blue brothers might be a little too trigger happy. They know the whole city is after them and will see blue coming a mile away. Might spook 'em enough to kill him. If Jim's still alive I think his best chance is you."

"I'll find him." Batman turned, stepped up on the ledge of the building and jumped off.

"Fuckin' freak," Harvey said to himself. He turned the signal off and walked back inside.

GOTHAM PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL

Dick knocked softly on the door to Barbara's private room and stepped in. This was the moment he had been dreading. As soon as he arrived at the hospital he knew something was terribly wrong. Barbara's mother and brother were in the waiting room sitting with Leslie. All three of their faces were puffy and red from crying. He had asked about Barbara's condition, but Barbara had requested that she be the one to tell him. Tell him what, he didn't know.

"Hey," he whispered, unsure of what else to say. He had seen her injured before, but she had never come this close to death. While he was glad she had survived, seeing the love of his life lying in a hospital bed surrounded by monitors and machines was almost overwhelming. He had expected that Barbara had been crying as well. But it didn't look like she had. She looked at him with a stone cold expression he had never seen before. She could be cold when angry, but this was different. She was different.

"It was him," Barbara stated. She didn't say it with anger or any emotion at all. She stated it simply as a fact. Barbara was beyond emotion at this point. The brilliant, analytical part of her mind had taken over to defend her from the onslaught of emotion from the attack. Her mind had shut off her feelings to protect her. "It was the Joker and-"

"Babs, we don't have to talk about this right now. Let's just-

"No! You do not tell me what conversation we have right now. I am here because I listened to you. You listen to me now. _You_ listen to _me_."

Dick nodded. "I'm listening."

"It was the Joker," Barbara continued. "I opened the door because I thought it was you. He shot me with a tranquilizer. I was raped. His men took turns raping me." Barbara saw Dick's face contort in anger. His fists clenched and his body had a tremble go through it. She didn't care.

"Joker filmed his men raping me. He made my dad watch. My father was forced to watch me gang raped. And when they were done the Joker made my dad shoot me in the stomach point blank. I remember every second of this." She stared hard into Dick's eyes as she talked. Her emotions were coming to the surface now. She silently forced him to look at her. To see and hear her pain. "They left me for dead and took my father. Did they tell you what happened when he shot me?"

"They said you wanted to tell me," Dick said. He was doing his best to not break down in front of Barbara. To be strong for her.

"The bullet severed my spinal cord. I'll never walk again."

Dick couldn't hold his emotions any longer. Tears welled up in his eyes and started flowing. "Oh God..."

Barbara watched as he cried. He sat on the edge of the bed and she took his hand as he finally released the stress of the past two days. He composed himself a minute later and looked at her.

"I am so sorry," Dick said as he wiped his eyes.

"This happened because we didn't take him down when we had the chance. This happened because we listened to Bruce," Barbara said. "I was his next victim."

Dick nodded. "I know. I should have gotten him when I had the chance. I should have listened to you."

"Dick, do you love me?" Barbara asked.

"What? Of course-"

"No, don't say the automatic response. Don't say it because you're supposed to because I'm here and you feel sorry for me. Do you truly, genuinely love me?"

Dick stared hard into Barbara's eyes. "I love you more than anything."

"Y35GRW."

"What?" Dick asked, confused.

"That's the license plate number to a U-Haul truck on my street. I recognized every other vehicle except that one. I'm sure it's what the Joker used. I didn't tell the police. I'm not going to tell Bruce."

"Why not?"

"Because the police will get my dad killed and Bruce won't do it."

"Do what?"

Barbara squeezed Dick's hand. "It's time, Dick. No more victims," she said. "You need to kill the Joker."

Dick stared at Barbara for a few seconds before responding. He finally nodded. "I will. I'll do it."


	13. The Killing Joke Chapter 11

**11**  
**Race**

BATCAVE SOUTH

Dick Grayson sat in front of the computer and stared at the screen. It had been easy to hack into the U-Haul company database and look up the license plate number. The truck had been rented to a "Joe K Erwuzere". Dick couldn't believe that the U-Haul employee hadn't recognized one of the most infamous criminals on planet. He assumed one of the three former cops had used a fake driver's license. The trucks all had GPS devices installed to track the mileage and speed customers drove. A map of the routes the truck had gone was now displayed in front of him. The truck went from the rental center to the Gordon house. From there it had gone to an address a few miles north and then back to the rental center.

Dick looked the address up and found it was an old movie theater that had shut down in the late nineties. No businesses had been registered there since and he checked to see if any utilities had been used. Nothing. They might have switched cars or used a nearby location. Still, it was a place to start.

Dick sat there in contemplation. He knew once he started there was no going back. The Joker had to die. Not for revenge. Not even for justice. The Joker had to die for a more practical purpose: to prevent him from ever harming anyone again. The mission was always about saving lives. If the Joker died tonight countless lives would be saved in the future. It just made sense. This one time the line had to be crossed. _I'm willing to commit the sin to save others_, Dick rationalized. Bruce would never understand. His coldness, his lack of feeling prevented that. Sure, Bruce spent his life stopping criminals, but he didn't actually feel emotion about it, did he? It was just one giant objective to complete to him. He didn't truly care about the victims, only his righteous anger.

Dick stood up and walked over to the armory. The Team had a standard kit loadout they frequently used. They also could customize their belts and uniform weapons to correspond to a specific mission. Dick prepped his belt for a full out assault. He doubled the number of weapons, unsure of how many men the Joker was actually using. He also selected a weapon he didn't use very often. It was too bulky for most missions and rarely needed. Although he wasn't as good as Green Arrow or Speedy, Robin was an excellent archer. He filled a quiver with enough weaponized arrows to attack a platoon of men. This added an additional seventeen pounds to his weight. His acrobatic abilities would be hindered, but he didn't expect to be using fancy footwork or jumping over very many rooftops. As soon as he found the Joker and Commissioner he would strike.

He then walked over to the uniform station and took out his Robin costume. He stared at it for a few seconds, lost in the past. Batgirl and Robin had shared many good times in their uniforms. They had saved lives. They had fallen in love. But Batgirl would never save another life again. More lives lost because of the Joker. Dick breathed in and out slowly, letting the anger at Joker take over. He knew he needed the anger, to hold onto it, if he was going to accomplish his objective. Just one more thing to do and he would be ready.

Dick grabbed one of the razor sharp batarangs from the armory and walked to the medical station. He grabbed one QuickClot Combat Gauze Z-Fold, alcohol wipes, Nu-Skin, and a pair of surgical forceps. He stripped nude and tossed his clothing in a pile on the floor. Dick took a few deep breaths and prepared himself for what he was about to do. He went into "the zone". The zone was what Bruce referred to as shutting down all emotions and feelings about an objective and focusing on simply accomplishing the objective. Bruce seemed to live in the zone. Dick had to consciously go into and out of it.

He picked up the razor batarang and looked down at his nude body. He felt along his hip, one inch under the skin. Dick wiped the area down with an alcohol pad. He looked down at the spot, drew another breath, and made a deep incision. Blood immediately started flowing and the pain was excruciating. Dick breathed in deeply, working on his pain control technique he had practiced since he started training with Bruce. The trick wasn't to try to ignore the pain. The trick was to fully embrace it, and picture it spreading throughout the body instead of at one specific point. The entire body took the pain and spread it out. After making a two inch vertical incision, Dick made a two inch horizontal incision. The blood was flowing steadily now, but not enough to be dangerous. Dick set the batarang down and grabbed the forceps. He slowly stuck them in and felt around. _There! _He closed the clamps around the small tracking device and removed it from his body, dropping the forceps and tracker on the ground. Each Team member had a tracker surgically implanted in their hip in case of emergency. Now Batman and Eagle couldn't trace him. Dick tore off a few squares of QuickClot and stuffed the pads in the incision, holding them there for a few minutes to make sure the hemostatic agent was properly effective in the wound. He pasted Nu-Skin over the incision and sealed it shut. It would be sore for a few days.

Dick walked back over to the uniform station. He put on his bodysuit and uniform, grabbed his kit, and walked over to his motorcycle. Robin turned around and looked at the cave. This might be my last night as Robin, he thought. It's worth it. He got on his motorcycle and rode out.

James Gordon opened his eyes as he regained consciousness. He was sitting in the middle seat of the middle row of a movie theater. There were no people talking or texting on cell phones. There were no loud teenagers. There were no crying children or infants. It should have been the ideal movie going experience. He tried to stand but discovered his hands and feet were zip-tied to his theater seat.

"Mornin'!" he heard the Joker's voice to his right say.

Gordon turned his head and saw the Joker and Harley Quinn walking down the row of seats towards him. "You bastard!" Gordon screamed. "I am going to get out of this chair and I am going to kill you!"

"Well Commissioner, that's the first step," the Joker said as he sat down next to Gordon. "You're angry... and for good reason. I know how to throw a party. You're thinking of it right now, aren't you? The hurt you want to bring. The pain you want me to feel." Joker slowly shook his head. "But you're not broken. Not yet. But you will be. You're going to see life through my eyes. We're going to be best friends. Harley?"

Harley stood over Gordon and attached a brace to his head. He struggled, but the Joker held his body and skull down and he moved in the seat. When the brace was fully around his head Harley attached it to the back of his theater chair. Gordon's head was now firmly held in place.

"Get your Goddamn hands off me!" he screamed. Harley ignored him. She opened up a doctor's bag she had and pulled out first-aid tape. She taped Gordon's eyes open, preventing him from even blinking.

"Don't worry, Jimmy. Harley here is going to give you some eye drops about every 90 seconds. Usually this would be uncomfortable, but trust me, you're not going to be thinking about that. We-"

"Fuck you!" Gordon yelled.

"Ohhhhhh, God..." Joker slowly said. "Harley, shut him up. I'm monologuing." Harley took a rag out of her bag and forced it into Gordon's mouth. "Do not interrupt me during a monologue. Do not. I'm telling you my plan. As a cop you should appreciate that. Thank your lucky stars I watch a lot of Bond movies. Anyway. As I was saying, here's the deal: We got that whole tear-up-your-daughter's-naughty-bits-then-kill-her thing on video. While you were napping I did a little editing, added sound effects, a soundtrack, that kind of thing. Now I'm no Spielberg but I'm pretty proud of it and I have a feeling it's going to be quite popular once I put it online. But we both know after I do that Batman will trace it pretty quickly. So you get to see it first, before the party gets busted. This is my special screening for you. I brought popcorn, but you got that gag thing going already. So just sit back and enjoy the show. Since there's nothing you can do about it you might as well just enjoy it."

The Joker took a remote control from the pocket of his shorts and pushed the play button. The movie screen lit up and the title card was displayed: BARBARA DOES GOTHAM. Flass came on the screen and moved in slow motion as "Also Sprach Zarathustra", the opening music from 2001: A Space Odyssey, played. As the assault started, the music turned into the theme song from The Benny Hill Show and the video went into high speed. The Joker and Harley burst into laughter at the "funny" rape. Gordon desperately tried to shut his eyes but the tape held his eyelids up. He tried to turn his head, to twist his body, to do anything to keep from having to see it again. The only small blessing he had was the tears that slightly distorted the image for him. And then Jim Gordon did something he hadn't done in years. Gordon began to pray to God.

"Please!" The man screamed. "Please don't kill me!" he repeated as he looked thirty stories down to the sidewalk far below. "My wife just had a baby! Please don't kill me!"

The man was being held over the ledge of one of the tallest buildings in Gotham by the Batman. The ex cop's jeans were soaked in urine and he was shaking uncontrollably.

"You went to prison along with the rest of Arnold Flass's dirty cops," the Batman growled. "I want to know everything you know about Flass and the rest of the squad. Now."

"I haven't talked to Flass in years! I swear! I had a drug problem, got sober in prison. I turned my life around. I lead NarcAnon meetings. I speak at schools now for Christ's sake!"

"Batman," Alfred said over the com line. "I'm afraid I have something you need to see right away."

"One mike."

Batman threw the terrified man to the roof and stood over him. "If I ever find out you've gone back to crime I will break every bone in your body."

"I swear I haven't. That's why I don't talk to any of them anymore. I just want to be a good person," he said as he started sobbing.

Batman picked the man up off the ground, fired his grapple, and descended to the alley below. He sat the crying man on the ground, fired his grapple again and returned to the rooftop.

"Eagle, go ahead," Batman said.

"I've been trying to contact Robin without success. Batcave South was accessed recently and his GPS shows he's been there since speaking with Batgirl.

"What's the issue?"

"The entrance to Batcave South was opened twice. Someone came in, someone came out. Yet the signal remained. I accessed the security feed and sent it to the HUD in your lenses."

The image was displayed on Batman's lenses. He saw Dick in front of the computer, pull an assault kit from the armory, and shockingly, slice open his own body to remove the tracking device that was implanted. Why wouldn't Robin want to be- No!

"Eagle, give me a twenty on his bike."

"Already checked, no signal. He disabled it. I looked at what he was researching on the computer. He tracked a GPS signal from a rental truck to an address of an old cinema. I've downloaded it to the Batmobile's GPS."

"Find an open bird and get an eye on the location if you can. Keep trying to establish coms with Robin. I'm oscar mike to the twenty."


	14. The Killing Joke Chapter 12

**12**  
**OVER THE EDGE**

**ABANDONED MOVIE THEATER**

"Go! Go! Go!" Rick screamed.

"I got him, man!" Billy yelled back. "That's bullshit, he should be down!"

"Will you two calm down?" Flass said to them. "I'm trying to think."

"Controller's messed up," Billy mumbled. "It's fuckin' my game up."

He quickly cycled through defensive plays on the LCD tv he was sitting in front of. Rick was sitting on the opposite end of the couch setting up his offensive play. They had set up the tv and video game console in the break room of the theater to pass the time until the release of the video of the assault. There would be an auction to be the first to see it, and then paid downloads would be available forty eight hours later.

"Brother, I am the Madden king!" he taunted Billy. "You got no game. No game!"

"Whatever, man. Everyone knows LeXbox controllers suck."

"Don't blame the controller. Blame the man controlling," Rick teased. "I gotta take a shit."

He patted Billy on the head as he got up and walked past him. Rick exited the break room and walked down the hall to the employee restroom. He whistled as he walked. Things were good. He was about to be a rich man. And all for doing to James Gordon what he had done to Rick. Rick had lost everything when he went to prison. And he still had nightmares about the things that happened to him in Blackgate. Convicts don't like cops. Rick doubted Gordon even thought about what he had gone through in prison. _Well, he's thinking about it now, huh?_ Rick smiled to himself as he walked into the bathroom. He walked up to a stall and pushed the door inward. As he did an arm reached around his neck and cut off his air supply. Rick tried to yell for help but could barely whisper. He looked down at the arm holding onto him. _Black gauntlet... blood red arm... Robin_? He felt a powerful punch to his kidney. Again he tried to scream but was unable.

"How many?" a voice whispered in his ear.

"Many what?" He felt another painful strike.

"How many men, moron?" Robin said. He punched Rick again in the kidney. His reinforced gauntlets made his blows much more powerful and painful. Rick would be pissing blood for awhile... if he survived. Robin knew this might be one of the men who had raped Barbara. _It would be so easy to just snap his neck right now..._

"Just... just me, Arnie, and Billy...in the room down there... gah..." The pain in his back was horrible.

"Where's the commissioner?"

"In the theater with Joker and Quinn. They're watching the movie."

"Is he alive?"

"Yeah, they wanted him alive to watch the movie."

_Movie? What movie could they want him alive to- no... it couldn't be... _"What movie?" Robin asked as he squeezed harder.

"Gah... of us... fucking the girl... he wants Gordon to see before he sells it online..."

Oh God, no... "I should kill you for what you did to her."

"No...please..." Rick begged.

Robin squeezed harder until the man went unconscious. He quietly lowered Rick onto his back on the floor, flexicuffed his hands and feet, and opened the door to exit the bathroom. He stopped, thought for a moment, turned around and went back towards the unconscious man. Robin lifted his right boot up and stomped down as hard as he could on Rick's groin. _You'll never rape again_, he thought as he walked out of the bathroom.

Robin turned right out of the bathroom and quietly walked down the hallway towards the break room on the left. He approached the open door in a crouched position, stopped at the doorframe and slowly peeked around. Flass was sitting at a table reading something on a laptop. Billy was sitting on a couch with his back to the door playing a video game.

_Flashbang would be too loud. Bad angle on the guy on the couch, hard to dart him without stepping in and alerting the guy on the laptop. Gotta be quick._

Robin stepped around the doorway and ran in. He fired his first dart at Flass, who ducked with surprising speed. Billy was slow getting up. He felt the sting of Robin's second dart as it entered his left shoulder. Billy tried to fully stand but simply collapsed back onto the couch.

Robin fired his third dart at Flass again. Flass grabbed the laptop and held it up to block. The dart hit the laptop and fell to the ground. He tossed the computer at Robin and went for his gun. Robin ducked under the flying laptop and closed the distance between himself and Flass. He grabbed the barrel of Flass's Glock with his left hand and pushed the slide toward Fass's stomach, simultaneously using his right fist to punch Flass square in the face. As soon as his fist made contact Robin dropped it down to the Glock's slide which he still held with his left hand. Robin used both hands to twist the weapon, breaking Flass's finger still in the trigger guard, and pulled it out of Flass's hand. He tossed the gun to the side. The entire move had taken less than two seconds. Flass now had a broken nose and right index finger.

But Flass did something unexpected. As Robin was tossing the gun away Flass quickly swung his left leg up high in a perfectly executed kick. His boot made contact with Robin just above his left eye. Robin fell to his stomach as Flass jumped on top of him, raining blows to the back of his head with his left fist. Pinned down, Robin reached up, grabbed Flass's fist and pulled it forward as he bucked his hips as hard as he could. Flass rolled forward off of Robin. Both men stood up, breathing heavily. Robin was seeing stars from where Flass had hit him. Flass had blood flowing freely from his nose.

"You've got some sort of armored headpiece on underneath all that hair, huh kid?" Flass asked.

Flass had felt it when he punched Robin. Robin wore an ultra-thin ceramic head protection device that had fake hair covering it to give a more organic look. It was part of the illusion the Team tried to create of being more than human and not just vigilantes in armor with gadgets. It didn't protect his head as well as Batman's cowl but gave much greater mobility.

"You guys might just be human after all," Flass said.

"You know nothing about humanity," Robin said. _This guy's got training. Wonder how much?_

The two men circled each other, sizing up one another's abilities.

"Spare me the lecture," Flass said. "We put that bitch through the same thing that was done to us in prison."

"Well at least you'll never be constipated again, right?" Robin taunted.

"Fuck you, punk!" Flass said as he charged. He stopped short and swung a roundhouse kick toward's Robin's left side. As Flass was kicking Robin moved toward him and swung his left fist down on Flass's collarbone, breaking it. He swung his right elbow into the left side of Flass's jaw and immediately threw a right hammerfist to the other side of his jaw on the backswing. Robin quickly followed with a powerful left strike to Flass's jaw. He collapsed to the floor. Robin had broken Flass's nose and collarbone and shattered his jaw.

He stood over Flass and stared down at him. Flass eyes were rolled up in pain, yet he remained conscious. Robin leaned down and put his face inches from Flass. "If you ever make it out of prison, I'm going to come after you again. You will never be safe." Robin stood up, raised his right leg, and brought his boot down as hard as he could on Flass's right knee. There was a satisfying crunch and Flass made an inhuman sound from the pain. Robin did the same thing to Flass's left knee. This time Flass passed out.

James Gordon was in hell. He had lost count how many times he had seen the attack on his daughter. The Joker and Harley seemed to find it funnier each time they watched the video. Gordon had cried himself out by now, so Harley was intermittently using eye drops on him. Gordon felt his mind slipping away. It was getting harder to think clearly now. But he kept praying as a way for his mind to focus. It was the only hope he had left.

"Oh boy, I wonder what's going to show next?" the Joker said as the film ended once more. "I hope it's a movie about your daughter getting raped and killed." He started giggling.

Once again the film started. Gordon couldn't take it any more. He started shaking and convulsing. He began to vomit but the gag kept it from leaving his mouth.

"Jesus, Jim. Little melodramatic, don't ya think? Harley, take the gag out. Don't want him choking to death."

Quinn took the gag out and released Gordon from his headrest. He leaned forward and emptied his stomach onto the floor. The Joker patted him on the back as he kept retching.

"Harley, I think we have a breakthrough!" The Joker announced. "Seems Jimmy here is losing it. Couple more hours of this and we'll be twinsies!"

"Can I carve a smile into him, baby?" Harley pleaded. She liked to slice open the cheeks of her victims to give them permanent smiles.

"After we're done, sweetheart. First things first. You can even use a spoon."

Harley squealed with excitement. She grabbed Gordon and put him back into the head brace, replaced the gag, and used the eyedrops on him. They resumed watching the video.

"Welcome to the family, darling," Joker said as he leaned over to kiss Gordon on the cheek. As he leaned his head he heard a whizzing sound and an impact in his chair. The Joker looked at where his head had just been. An arrow was lodged in the chair with the head sticking out of the back. Had the Joker not moved his head he would have been killed.

He looked over towards the front exit of the theater. Robin stepped out of the shadows with another arrow already drawn. The Joker and Harley both froze in place. Gordon turned his eyes towards Robin. Thank you, God...

"This is new," the Joker said. "Cutting it a little close, aren't ya kid?" he said to Robin.

"Shut up," Robin responded as he kept the arrow trained on the Joker's head. "Harley, take the gag out and untie the commissioner."

"Fuck you," she said.

"Do it now or I'll put an arrow through his stomach and make you watch him die slowly."

Harley started laughing. She looked at Robin, seeing him in a new light. "Oh, puddin' I think he means it. Wow..."

"Well, this is interesting," the Joker said as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Finally grew a pair, junior? The only thing that would make this better is if it was bat approved. But either way, this is beautiful."

Robin lowered his aim toward's the Joker's stomach. "I did mean it," he said as he fired.


	15. The Killing Joke Chapter 13

**13**  
**EXCEPTION**

Robin felt a sharp sting in his right hand as he fired his arrow. His aim was knocked off and the arrow embedded itself into the seat to the Joker's right. Robin immediately rolled to his left and came up in a crouched position, quickly drawing another arrow and hunting for a target. He glanced down and saw a batarang sticking out of the top of his right hand. It stung a little, but there was no damage. His gauntlet had saved him.

Batman was standing twenty feet away from Harley on the opposite side, another batarang already in his hand.

"Lower your weapon," Batman ordered. He couldn't tranq Robin with both Harley and Joker still action capable. If Robin went unconscious either one could kill the commissioner while Batman fought the other.

"No," Robin responded coldly. "Not this time. I'm not giving him another chance to escape and hurt others. He needs to be stopped for good finally."

"No. Fucking. Way," the Joker said as he looked back and forth between them. "Oh this is good. This is better than I dreamed. Bat versus bird. Looks like you've lost control... daddy. Ha ha ha ha!"

Gordon watched Batman and Robin as they faced off. He had wanted to kill the Joker moments before. Kill him slowly. But seeing Robin ready to kill had changed that. Robin was one of the few bright spots he had seen in Batman's life. The kid had an optimism that seemed to ground Batman. More than once Gordon had thought it might be Robin who kept Batman from going over the edge and becoming a killer. To see Robin so willing to murder was heartbreaking. If Robin did that, the Joker would have won. He would have made Robin like him. Gordon saw it now. The Joker wanted nothing more than chaos. To break people. To break their ideals. Their spirit. To remove hope. And getting Batman's protégé to violate their rule about killing would accomplish all of that. Gordon was determined not to let that happen to himself or Batman and Robin.

"This one time, Batman," Robin said. "This one time an exception has to be made." He couldn't position himself at an angle for a lethal shot at the Joker, who was now sitting in the row behind Harley.

"We don't kill," Batman said calmly. "We don't become them."

"It's not becoming them!" Robin yelled. "It is stopping him from ever hurting someone again. He kills for pleasure. I'm doing this to save lives."

Robin's arm was getting tired from holding the string back on his bow. He knew he couldn't keep this standoff going much longer. And he knew Batman was thinking the same thing.

"You're right, kiddo!" the Joker said. "You know I'm just going to get out again. Who knows what I might do next? I've always wanted to do something at a day care. All those little children running around screaming for their mommy and daddy. Terrified in their last moments of life but dying with huge smiles on their faces. Are you going to let that happen?"

"No, I'm not," Robin said. He turned and fired his arrow into Harley Quinn's thigh. She screamed in pain and the Joker jumped behind one more row and began running for the back exit of the theater. Robin drew another arrow to shoot at the Joker but was tackled by Batman. They both rolled and came into standing position opposite each other. "I shot her femoral artery. If you don't stop the bleeding she'll die."

"Don't do this," Batman said.

"You can stop me or you can save her life. Your choice."

Batman knew he didn't have time to neutralize Robin before Harley bled out. He turned toward Harley as Robin ran out the exit to chase the Joker. The arrow was still sticking out of her thigh and blood was flowing everywhere. Batman shot her with a tranq dart so she would stop moving. As soon as she was unconscious he took a mini-acetylene torch from his belt and began to cut through the kevlar carbon woven arrow just above the entry wound.

Robin burst out the back exit of the theater and into the lobby and did a scan for threats. The Joker was at the other end, heading through the doorway into the street. Robin drew a specialized arrow and fired it. It exploded on impact but the Joker was already through the exit and on the other side. Robin sprinted as quickly as he could and ran outside. The Joker was running towards an old Ford pickup parked across the street. Robin drew another arrow and fired at the truck. The arrow exploded on impact, turning the truck into a fireball. The force of the explosion knocked the Joker back and he landed facedown and motionless.

Robin drew another arrow and calmly walked towards the Joker. He wanted to make sure. _Right through the head. No chance of survival._ The Joker moaned and rolled onto his back. The air was filled with smoke as Robin stopped two feet away from the Joker.

"You'll never hurt anyone again," Robin said with satisfaction.

"Wanna bet?" the Joker asked. Robin was so focused on the Joker's head he had failed to notice the specially modified derringer .38 loaded with an armor piercing bullet in the Joker's hand. He shot Robin point blank.

Batman finished cutting through the arrow with his torch and laid Harley on her stomach on the ground. He removed the back portion of the arrow from her thigh and a spray of arterial blood shot out. Batman grabbed a QuickClot from his belt and held it over the wound. As he waited for the blood to clot he locked eyes with Gordon, who still had a gag in his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Batman asked. Gordon nodded his head. "Jim, Barbara's alive. Her boyfriend found her and got her to the hospital." Batman saw Gordon shudder with relief as fresh tears started falling down his cheeks. Batman looked down at Harley's wound. He thought about Robin trying to kill Harley. Robin might have already killed the Joker by now. Or the Joker might have killed him. Batman thought of Jim. of Barbara. Of all the countless others who had been hurt. Maybe Robin was right. Maybe this one time he could break the rule.

Batman looked down at Harley's thigh and made sure the QuickClot had stopped the bleeding. He scooted her body towards the theater seat and propped her legs up to reduce blood flow to her thighs. Satisfied, he stood and took the tape off Gordon's eyes and gag out of his mouth.

"I'll be back," Batman said as he turned to leave.

"Wait!" Gordon yelled. Batman turned back. "You get him the right way. Robin was wrong. Don't let the Joker win! You get him the right way!"

_Amazing_, Batman thought. _Jim watched his own daughter get raped and possibly murdered in front of him, gets forced to relive it over and over, and he still keeps his code of honor. He is still strong._ At the moment Batman had never respected another person more than he did James Gordon. "I will, Jim. You have my word."

Batman ran towards the exit and went through the door into the lobby. He saw the damage from Robin's arrow on the door leading to the street and ran toward it. He could see a flickering of light and came out into the street.

The Joker was on his knees in front of a truck that had obviously exploded. There was a gash along his forehead and blood was running down his face mixing with the white makeup as it melted from the heat. He was holding Robin in front of him as a shield. Robin's chest had a hole in the armor from where he had been shot. A pool of blood was slowly forming around them. The Joker was holding the derringer to Robin's left temple.

"Stop," the Joker commanded as Batman came closer.

"You're done. You lost. The commissioner is okay. His daughter survived." Batman growled at him.

"Lost?" the Joker giggled. "I didn't lose. Fuck Gordon. I did something even more spectacular. I broke your precious Robin. I made him break the one rule you say you will never break. I would kill to hear the conversation you two are going to have later about this. Now you listen to me or I kill the kid."

"I'm listening."

"A man walks into a psychiatrist's office. Now this man is covered head to toe in Saran Wrap. It's like he's wearing a suit made out of the stuff. 'Doctor, doctor!', the man says. 'I have this compulsion to only wear Saran Wrap. Can you tell please tell me what's wrong?'. The doctor looks him up and down and says "Well I can clearly see your nuts.' " The Batman simply stared at him expressionless. "Jesus, you never get the joke," the Joker said. He tossed the derringer into the street and shrugged his shoulders. "It was empty anyway." The Joker dropped Robin to the ground and stood up, spreading his arms into a Christ-like pose. "I surrender," he said. He began laughing hysterically.


	16. The Killing Joke Chapter 14

**14**  
**LOSS**

**THE BUNKER**

Four hours later Bruce Wayne stepped out of the shower stall, grabbed a towel, and dried himself off. He put on the plain gray t-shirt, black Nike sweatpants, and Brooks running shoes that Alfred had laid out for him. He walked out of the locker room and to the War Room. Alfred and Leslie were already sitting at the conference table per his request. There was a kale protein shake and bottle of water waiting for him in front of an empty chair. Silent, Bruce sat down, took a small drink of the shake and then a long drink from the bottle of water, and sat it down. He simply sat there, not looking at anything in particular, obviously deep in thought. Alfred and Leslie looked at each other, unsure whether or not they should break the uncomfortable silence.

After the Joker surrendered Batman darted him, flexi-cuffed his hands and feet together, and freed James Gordon. The truck explosion had woken the neighborhood and numerous calls to 911 had ensured medical response teams as well as Gotham SWAT arrived shortly. Batman took the injured Robin to one of the abandoned tunnels the Team used and had him at the Bunker within minutes. While Dick was in surgery Batman had used a drone to locate Robin's bike and returned to retrieve it.

Dick Grayson was going to be okay. The bullet the Joker had fired had not fully penetrated the body armor Robin was wearing. It had punctured, but not fully entered the right side of Robin's chest. He had three broken ribs and a nasty puncture wound that had required minor surgery. Leslie had performed the surgery with Alfred's assistance. Dick was now sedated and sleeping in his old room at the penthouse in Wayne Tower. It would be months before he was physically able to operate as Robin again.

"Dick was lucky tonight," Bruce finally said. "Considering his actions it's incredible nobody was killed. We're not doing our regular hot wash this time. We're going to hot wash Batman, Robin, and Batgirl."

"I think that's a good idea, Bruce, and long overdue," Leslie said. "The mission, this life, is too much for them. They're young. They still have a chance to make a normal life."

"She's correct, sir," Alfred said. "It's been horrible enough watching you risk your life every night. You've given everything for the Batman and now that's all you have left. Despite the horrendous attack on Barbara, she now can make a relatively normal life for herself. And she has him. They can make a life together away from all this nastiness and darkness. Don't make Dick share your path."

"This was their choice, not mine," Bruce responded. "Dick was going after Zucco with or without my help. I trained him so he wouldn't get himself killed. Same with Barbara. She tried being Batgirl on her own, I saw her amazing potential so I trained her so she wouldn't get killed."

"Don't bullshit me, Bruce. Alfred may not feel comfortable saying that to you, but I am. You took them in for the mission. You could have let Barbara's father know at any time what she was planning. You trained them for years before they operated in uniform. You could have stopped either one."

Bruce stood up, folded his arms across his chest, took a few steps away, and turned his back to them. Alfred and Leslie didn't take it personally. Bruce sometimes did this when he was analyzing or processing information. They knew he was evaluating Leslie's words. He turned back and made eye contact with them.

"I'm not denying the mission benefited from their recruitment. The Batman is much more effective with them. They are an exceptional force multiplier and two of the most capable human beings I have ever encountered. Dick was angry, ready to take on the mob on his own without training. Barbara would have been killed within six months. We mutually benefited each other."

Leslie had heard enough. She was tired of Bruce rationalizing everything for the mission. It was one thing to sacrifice himself. He had manipulated Barbara and Dick into sacrificing themselves. The toll of the attack on Barbara and Dick's injury had her emotionally drained.

"You manipulated them!" she yelled.

"I saved them!" Bruce yelled back, surprising himself.

Alfred and Leslie looked to each other. They could count on one hand the number of times they had seen Bruce yell in anger or frustration. Usually the emotions made him quiet and cold.

"I saved them," Bruce repeated, calmer now. He let out a long breath and stared at the floor for a moment. "But things are different now. The attack on Barbara changed things. Robin would have killed the Joker if I hadn't intervened. This isn't acceptable."

"Sir, these were extraordinary circumstances," Alfred said. "Dick was emotionally shattered after the attack on Barbara. I'd wager he's carrying a fair amount of guilt over her attack."

"That wasn't his fault."

"That doesn't matter at all. He's one of the most highly trained men on the planet, and the woman he loves was brutally attacked. Responsible or not, that will greatly affect any man. I'd wager you might have done the same thing at his age in that position."

"He's been through enough, Bruce," Leslie added. "You obviously should discuss it with him, but you have to understand what was going on with him. He needs your empathy right now. Coming down on him will just cause a bigger rift."

"It doesn't matter. He got angry, he got sloppy, he tried to kill. That is our one rule. We do not kill. Ever."

"Thankfully, he didn't kill," Alfred said. "I know what it feels like to take another man's life. I may believe it was justified, but it was horrible and my life was never the same. But Master Richard doesn't have that burden. He can still come back from the edge given the proper chance."

"Earlier you said you want him to have a normal life. Now you sound like you want him back in the field to redeem himself."

"I want him to make the right choices without your control. I would prefer he choose to leave this life and be happy."

Bruce nodded and looked at Leslie. "Leslie, sum it up."

"You're too controlling. Barbara and especially Dick will do anything to prove themselves to you. It was one thing when Dick was seventeen and just became Robin. He's nearly twenty one now and has almost four years experience. Yet you treat him like a novice. I don't think this issue is going away until you learn to trust him more. Let him make mistakes. Frankly I hope he puts the mask away after this and is just there for Barbara as she recovers. She's going to need him."

"There isn't room for mistakes in the mission. Mistakes can easily be lethal. Both of your opinions are noted. Thanks for your input," Bruce said as he sat back down. He put both arms on the table and leaned forward. "You two are going to get your wish, but for different reasons than mine. Killing compromises the entire mission. Robin tried to kill. Alfred, you don't feel he crossed a line. I do. I don't trust him to make the right decision under duress. I don't trust him to watch my back. At this point he'll be a distraction." Bruce stood up, indicating the hot wash had ended. "Alfred, I need you to sanitize all Robin specific items. Destroy the uniforms and weapons."

"Sir, I really thi-"

"Just do it, Alfred. I'll inform him later. Robin is done."

**GOTHAM PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL**

"And that was the last thing I remember," Dick told Barbara as he finished debriefing her on his investigation and attack on the Joker and his men.

Barbara had woken up to the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Her dad was next to her hospital bed, and although he was in a hospital gown and sitting in a wheelchair, he had never looked so good to Barbara in her life. Hugs were exchanged and tears were freely flowing, but there were smiles too. Father and daughter held hands and told each other how they thought the other was dead. They told each other how much they loved one another and how grateful they were to be alive. Jim tearfully tried to apologize for not saving her, but Barbara stopped him and reassured him it wasn't his fault. More tears flowed.

The reunion only lasted fifteen minutes. James Gordon was going to be in the hospital for awhile. Tests had shown he had a mild heart attack while he was the Joker's prisoner. He would not be going back to his job for months, maybe not ever.

Dick had been waiting outside of Barbara's room. After a nurse wheeled Jim back to his own room Dick had gone inside to talk to Barbara. He had tried to take her hand, but she pulled away. She had seen the news reports on the capture of the Joker and knew he was still alive.

"I woke up in my bed at the penthouse," Dick continued. "I'm sore as hell, and they have me on antibiotics. I'll be out of commission for a bit," he finished.

Barbara had listened to the entire debrief without comment, only interjecting to ask clarifying questions or more specific details from Dick. She showed no visible reaction to anything he said, even about getting shot. She had wanted him to speak as freely and uninterrupted as possible.

"Goddamn you," she said softly.

"What?" Dick asked, certain he had misheard.

"I said 'Goddamn you'," she said firmly. "Goddamn you, why couldn't you go through with it?"

"Go through with it? I tried! I shot an arrow at his fucking head."

"Right, like you would fucking miss. You missed, you did it on purpose to give him time to stop you."

"I didn't want him to stop me!" Dick couldn't believe what he was hearing after all he had been through. "I cut the tracker out of my body to keep him from tracking me. I disabled my bike's GPS."

"But you left your fucking search history on the system? That's not even amateur level, Dick. Teenage boys know how to delete internet history. You wanted to get caught.

"I didn't want to get caught! I got shot, Barbara. I got shot and he held a gun to my head. I almost died."

"You got shot and you woke up the next day and walked. Don't tell me about how rough it was. You had a minor surgery? I'm going to have major surgeries for the rest of my life to deal with this. Don't look for empathy from me, Grayson. How can someone so smart be so fucking clueless?"

"I did this for you! I did it for you. Everything was for you."

"That's the problem, Dick," Barbara said, exasperated. "It's always for somebody else with you. Always. You have no mind of your own. You have no will of your own! It's about pleasing him, or pleasing me, or the Titans, or whomever. God, it's like dealing with a small child. You're not even a man. You're a little boy pretending to be a man. And I'm going to be in a wheelchair because you couldn't make a decision like a man."

Dick stood there stunned. No one, especially Barbara, had ever said anything so hurtful to him. It more than caught him off guard. It paralyzed his thinking. He couldn't even begin to address what she had just said. _Has Barbara thought_ _this about me all along_? He rubbed his face with his hands and then clasped them behind the back of his head, causing pain in his side from the wounds. He winced.

"Okay...okay..." he stammered. "This is getting out of hand. Let's just calm down and I'll come back in a few hours and we can talk and-"

"God, Dick!" Barbara yelled. "You just don't get it. Stop patronizing me like you've done ever since this happened. There isn't anything to talk about anymore. Unless you decide to grow up talking is pointless. It's just someone else's words coming out of your mouth."

"Look, I know you're upset-"

"Stop patronizing me!" she shouted. Barbara covered her face with her hands and started crying. "I don't want this anymore."

"Want what? What are you saying? What's 'this'?"

"This! This! Us! _You_!" she cried. She put her hands down by her side and looked into his eyes. "I don't want you anymore."

"Barbara...I..."

"Just go. Don't come back. Let me heal in peace. Please..." she pleaded.

Dick knew the expression he was reading on her face. It was contempt. "Keep the fucking ring," Dick said. He turned and walked out the door.

Dick stepped out the front doors of the hospital and began walking. He had taken a cab to the hospital. Although he was mobile, he was still in acute pain from being shot. He was on anti-inflammatories and a heavy dose of painkillers. He didn't like using the painkillers, but had to if he was going to appear normal in public. He couldn't use his arms to drive and being bumped around on public transportation would have been excruciating.

Dick wasn't thinking of any of this as he walked towards Wayne Tower. It was more than a few miles of sidewalk to get there, but he didn't care right now. All he could think about was Barbara and what she had said. Was it possible he had subconsciously left the search history for Batman to find? He couldn't be sure now. It was an amateur level mistake._ I don't know what to think_ _anymore. _He was sure Barbara had meant every word she said. About him. About them. _I just wanted to be as good as him. I just wanted to do the right thing. I worked my ass off to be Robin. There aren't ten people my age on the planet who can do what I do. How am I not a man?_

Still, the seed of doubt had been planted in his mind. It grew as he kept walking. _How am I a man? How can she not love me anymore? After all we've been through?_ The anger, pain, guilt, and doubt kept growing as he walked. Dick suddenly stopped as he noticed he had just passed Wayne Tower. He had become lost in thought, not noticing anything. He had never done that before and it was scary. _I could have passed Darkseid on the street and not noticed. Damn._

He turned around and walked back to the double doors of Wayne Tower. The security guards at the desk nodded at him as he walked to the private elevator that led only to the Wayne Penthouse. It also led to the Bunker. Dick couldn't workout to alleviate his stress but he could get lost in other things. There were news reports to watch, intercepted SIGINT and ELINT from intelligence agencies. Titan reports to review. There was always something.

Dick got in and waited for the doors to close. When they shut he punched "1-0-4-7" on the numbered pad. He paused his finger on each number long enough for his print to be read. This initiated the security sequence to the Bunker. The sequence was completely silent and the elevator gave no prompts or indication it was activated. Dick looked up at the camera and waited for ten seconds for the the facial recognition software and retinal scan. He then spoke his code out loud for the voice recognition software.

"Romeo. Juliet. Golf. Romeo. One. Nine. Four. Zero."

Nothing. He said the sequence out loud again. Nothing.

That's strange. Never been broken before.

He repeated the entire security sequence again. Nothing.

_What the hell?_ And then he realized what was going on. _Bruce, you son of a_ _bitch._ His security clearance had been revoked. He hadn't seen Bruce since he woke up from surgery. _He just made the decision. No talk. No discussion. Not even the decency to let me know before he did it._

Dick thought about the night he and Batgirl let the Joker go. He thought about forgetting his cell phone at her house. He remembered being irritated that she wouldn't pick up, all the while she was being raped. He thought about the pleading in Barbara's eyes to do the one thing he swore he would never do. He thought about the arrow missing the Joker's head. He thought about critically wounding Harley Quinn. He thought about being shot. He thought about Barbara being shot. He thought about failing Barbara. Failing Bruce. Failing himself.

Dick Grayson finally broke. He screamed as loud as he could and punched the elevator door with all his force. The sound was a sickening crunch as his knuckles on his left hand split from the impact. He didn't notice. He yelled and hit the door again. He yelled and hit the door again. Dick looked down at his chest. He had reopened his chest wound and blood was seeping through his shirt and running down his body. Dick collapsed to the floor of the elevator and began to sob.


	17. The Killing Joke Chapter 15

**15**  
**RELEASE**

**GOTHAM PRESBYTERIAN HOSPITAL**

Barbara Gordon wasn't quite sure why she woke up. She might have heard the door open. He could have said something. Maybe she had just felt him standing next to her bed. But when she slowly opened her eyes, Bruce Wayne was standing over her.

It was one of the few times she had been able to read his facial expression. She saw concern. Disappointment. Anger. All three emotions seemed to be fighting for dominance. She didn't care.

"He's gone," Bruce said.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Who's gone?"

"His room has been emptied out. Alfred found a note. Dick's gone."

"Did he say where he was going? Why?"

"He said there was no reason to stay in Gotham. He didn't say where."

Barbara said nothing.

Barbara and Bruce just stared at each other for a few moments. This was the first time Bruce had seen her alone since the attack. It was not easy to see his protégé like this. He felt powerless. And yet another issue hung in the air. One he couldn't ignore.

"What did you say to him?" Bruce asked.

"Say to him about what? I didn't tell him to leave Gotham."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. His search history started with the plate number of the rental truck. No witnesses reported it. It wasn't mentioned in any police reports. He didn't receive a tip from anywhere. You're the source. You kept it from the police. You kept it from me so he would go after the Joker alone. What did you say to him?"

"Always the detective huh, Bruce?"

"Did you tell him to kill the Joker?" Bruce asked from clenched teeth. The past few days had even gotten to him. His protégé had been attacked and almost killed, Jim had been kidnapped and tortured, Robin had broken their one rule, and Dick was gone. Maybe for good. And now he suspected Barbara had manipulated Dick into nearly becoming a killer. His world was falling apart. Even Bruce Wayne had his limits.

"You're Goddamn right I did," Barbara confessed. "My only regret is that he didn't do it."

"He came close to being killed."

"Because he had to do it alone, Bruce. Because we can't count on you. If you would just end the Joker once and for all nobody else would be hurt. But you can't make the tough call, even when it saves lives."

"We don't kill, Barbara. You know that."

"Oh, we kill," Barbara responded. "We kill every time we let him go. Every person he murders after we simply catch him is a person we kill. We kill by allowing him the chance to get out and kill again."

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple! You're seeing the results first hand. I'm glad Dick left. Getting away from you is the best thing that could happen to him."

Her words stung. He had expected Barbara to show concern or even remorse. The attack had obviously changed her. This was not the Barbara he knew. Still, she was his protégé and one of the people he cared about most in the world. Seeing her in the hospital bed was one of the toughest things he had ever gone through. He wanted to still be there for her. Bruce sat down in the hospital chair next to her bed. He decided to let the comment go and focus on helping her.

"Barbara, we're going to get the best doctors available. I'll pay for everything."

"I don't want or need your help. GCPD already set up a fund for me. Donations are coming in from all over the country. We made headlines nationwide. I'm a national charity case because of you. You think I want or need your help? This is more your fault than the Joker's. At least he's crazy. You're just too self-righteous to care."

"Barbara, I-"

"Get the hell out," Barbara ordered. She stared directly into his eyes. "If you ever contact me again in any way, I will expose you. I will tell every single detail of the Batman to anyone who will listen. Stay out of my life."

Bruce was stunned into silence. He simply nodded, got up and went to the door.

"And Bruce?" Barbara called when he opened the door to leave. He turned around to look at her. Barbara glared at him. "Fuck you."

**DRAKE BUILDING - ROOFTOP**

"Do you think she means it?"

Batman thought for a moment before responding. "Yes, I do. I wouldn't have believed it was possible a week ago."

"I'm so sorry, Bruce. About everything. I wish there was something I could do."

"Don't use my name while in we're in uniform."

"Relax, I already scanned. We're good."

"Don't make it a habit," Batman replied. He let it go at that. His mind was analyzing the events of the past few days. He looked out over the Gotham skyline. The city lights stretched out beautifully below them. Batman liked the view from on high. It reminded him Gotham was a city filled with real, decent people, not just the bad ones. It gave him perspective.

"Look, you did the right thing."

"Did I? Maybe she's right."

"We're not executioners. That's a line we can't go back from. Though I can't say what I would do if it had been my fiancée."

"You wouldn't."

"Well if I ever do I know you'll be there to take me down," his friend said. "And I'm thankful for that. There's nobody I trust more. What are you going to do about Dick?"

"Dick's gone," Batman said coldly.

"Well, if he comes back you need to work this out. What if he wants to continue the life?"

"It won't be with my help. I'm not supporting a killer. I can't trust him."

"He didn't kill, Bruce. And trust is a two way street. They didn't trust you either. You put these kids through hell with this life. And then you treated them like robots. Frankly I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner."

"You have no perspective on this, Clark. You have no idea what it's like to be this vulnerable. Bullets don't bounce off of us. Fire burns us. Steel cuts us. You've never worried about anyone in the field like that and you certainly never have to worry for yourself about those things. We're not invulnerable."

"Point taken," Superman replied. "Look, I'm sorry. I know this has been tough. I'm just saying to trust your ability to train others. They need to know what to do when you're not around."

"It doesn't matter now. Batgirl and Robin are done. I'm on my own again."

"It's funny. Everyone thinks of you as the loner. But Batman without Batgirl or Robin seems wrong."

"It certainly reduces my effectiveness. I just can't risk anyone else anymore. Seeing Dick and Barbara both come so close to death showed me that."

"It wasn't them, Bruce. You have to learn to trust. Not just others but yourself. Trust yourself to train them right. You might be pleasantly surprised. Don't be afraid to have a little hope."

"Always the optimist."

"I think it's what you secretly like most about me." Superman put his hands on Bruce's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I know it hurts. I'm here if you need me. Hang in there."

"Thank you, Clark. I appreciate you coming here."

"Not every day you call because you 'need a friend right now'. I knew it was important. Diana will never believe you said that."

"Tell her to use the lasso," Batman said as he stepped up onto the ledge. He paused for a moment, thinking. "We should do this more often."

"I might just hold you to that. See ya, pal." Superman rose up into the air and flew off.

"And stop calling me Bruce," Batman said a split second before a sonic boom thundered through the sky. He knew Superman heard him.

Batman looked out over the city. _The war goes on_, he thought. Batman stepped off the ledge and glided down to the streets of Gotham.


	18. The Killing Joke Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

**EIGHT YEARS AGO**  
**ONE MILE EAST OF ACECHEM**

"Dude, I have no money," Colby said into his phone as he drove home from work. The teenager had just clocked out from his job at McDonald's and was desperately trying to find some weed so he could smoke before going to sleep. It would be ridiculous to just expect him to fall asleep with no help at all. _This isn't_ _the Stone Age. _He laughed at his own thought. "Can't you just spot me till Thursday? I can't handle just layi- oh shit! Fuck!"

A man had just stepped into the middle of the road right in front of Colby. He swerved his 1984 Nissan Sentra to the left and jammed his foot on the brakes to keep from hitting the guardrail on the other side. The tires squealed and he stopped inches from wrecking his car.

"Dude, what the fuck, man?" he yelled at the man as he approached the car. "You think this is funny?" the teenager asked as he looked at the man's face.

The major opened the door, grabbed Colby by his shirt and tossed him out of his own car.

"Fuck you, dude! I'm calling the cops!" Colby said as he sat in the middle of the street.

The major kicked him viciously in the head. Colby sprawled completely out but kept moving. The major jumped on top of him and swung his fist into the boy's face until he stopped moving. _God, I hope I didn't kill him._ The major dragged the body to the guardrail and tossed him over the side into the ditch.

The major ran back to Colby's car, jumped in and sped away towards his house, praying he would make it in time to save his wife from the Red Hood.

He arrived in his neighborhood fifteen minutes later. The major parked the Sentra a block away from his house and slowly walked the rest of the way. His BMW was parked in the driveway. The two Red Hoods he had gone with to ACECHEM had gotten there before him. All the curtains were drawn on his house and the porch light was off. He prayed they had simply picked up their two partners and left.

He cautiously approached his house and made his way to the side, coming up against the window to the den. Although the curtains were drawn they were parted a couple inches apart, enough for him to look into his house. What he saw sent waves of shock and horror through his mind.

His pregnant wife was fully nude and lying on the floor of their living room, while one of the Red Hoods was on top of her. His pants were around his ankles and he was thrusting angrily. Two other Hoods simply stood there watching. _Fucking_ _animals! _The major wanted to break the door down and rush in, but he knew that would only guarantee the death of himself, his wife, and their unborn child. These men were highly trained.

_Why are they still here?_ he wondered. It made no sense. They should have left by now. He put it out of his mind and tried to think. Gun. He kept a gun upstairs in his bedroom. If he could get to that and sneak back downstairs he might be able to save her. It wasn't much of a plan but it was all he had.

He silently went into his back yard and climbed the tree closest to his bedroom window. The major leaned out onto the branch next to his window. It started to buckle under his weight but he didn't care. This was his only chance. He reached out and grabbed onto the ledge and jumped off the tree. His legs hit the side of the house but didn't make too much noise. He held on with one hand and used the other to slide the window open, praying the Hoods had disabled the alarm. They had. No sirens or lights came on. He pushed the window up and crawled through into his bedroom. Now he understood why the Red Hood was still here. His room had been completely torn apart. They were looking for any additional notes he might have kept hidden or in a safe somewhere in his house. There were none. The major actually had the notes in his head, an ability very few people on the planet had.

_Oh God, the gun! _He went towards his closet to see if the lockbox for his Glock was still there. The box lay on the floor of the closet, opened and empty. There would be no gun to rescue his wife with. The major walked out of his room and down the hall. Before he made it to the stairs he heard a noise in his office to the right. He peeked around the corner into the room. One of the Hoods was sitting at this desk looking through files on his computer. His back was facing the door and he had no idea the major was there.

The major slowly crept up on the man and planned his attack. He silently came up directly behind the Hood, wrapped his hand around his mouth, and quickly grabbed a letter opener off the desk and viciously slammed it into the Hood's windpipe. A spray of blood went all over the desk, keyboard, and computer screen. The Hood instinctively reached up to his throat but it was too late. He tried to yell out but couldn't. The major stabbed his throat again and again and held the Hood there until he stopped moving.

The major searched the Hood, found his gun and grabbed it when he felt the cold tip of a silencer at the back of his head.

"Drop the weapon, asshole," the Hood holding the silenced gun said. The major did as he was told. "Turn around, slowly walk downstairs." The major turned and walked out of the office, made a right and walked towards the stairs.

"Bravo, what are you doing?" the Hood behind the major asked.

"I'm fuckin', man!" Red Hood Bravo yelled upstairs.

"Don't freak out, man!" the Hood with the gun yelled. "I'm coming down."

The major and Hood walked downstairs slowly. Red Hood Bravo was thrusting away furiously on top of the major's wife. The major locked eyes with her and bent over to vomit.

"What the fuck, Alpha?" Red Hood Bravo said as he jumped off of her. The other Hood watching immediately drew his weapon.

"This asshole just killed Charlie, man," Red Hood Alpha explained. "I want him to see you finish on that bitch." Delta lowered his weapon.

"You motherfucker," Bravo said to the husband. "That man was like a brother to me!" He stared at the major. "You think this is fucking funny? You are about to have one bad day. Just so you know, I'm the last one. We all took turns. Make him watch."

"Please..." the major's wife begged. "Stop..."

"Shut up, bitch," Bravo said as he punched her in the face, breaking her nose. Blood started flowing out onto the carpet.

Alpha put his left arm around the major's throat as his right hand held the pistol. Bravo leaned over to mount Jeannie again. She screamed and clawed at his face, gouging his left eye. The man shrieked and brought his hands up to his face. Jeannie reached for the silenced pistol lying on the floor next to them. As she did the major bit down as hard as he could on Alpha's arm. Alpha wailed and loosened his grip and the major flipped him over his back and down the stairs, breaking his neck. Jeannie fired two rounds through Bravo's head, killing him instantly.

The major jumped down the stairs on top of the dead Alpha and grabbed his pistol. He spun around and fired once in Delta's direction. He didn't know Jeannie was now standing in front of Delta until it was too late.

"No!" the major screamed.

Jeannie looked down at the entry wound in her swollen stomach. "Why?" she asked as she collapsed to the floor.

Delta raised his weapon and fired at the major. Delta emptied his clip and miraculously the former Navy SEAL missed the major as he charged. His gun clicked empty as he was tackled to the ground. The men rolled around on the floor until the major ended up on top of him, somehow now holding the gun by the silencer. With a horrible scream the major swung the butt of the gun as hard as the could into Red Hood Delta's face. The first strike hit him square in the forehead, stunning him. The second strike took out part of his right eye and tore an enormous gash in his cheek. The third strike hit his forehead again, splitting it open. The major swung again and again at the forehead. Pieces of his skull and bits of brain matter were now exposed. Although Delta was obviously dead, the major swung one last time to make sure. Exhausted, he dropped the gun and went over to his wife.

"Jeannie! Baby!" he yelled as he ran to her and took her hand. He looked at the gunshot wound to her stomach. He knew instantly both she and their child would not survive.

"Save...save... my baby," Jeannie pleaded with him as she lay bleeding out.

"I will, I will," he lied. He didn't want her final moments to be thinking of her dead child.

She looked up at him in horror and confusion. "Why?" she said as tears flowed. "Why are you smiling?" She put her head down and died with a look of shock on her face.

"No..." the major said. "No..." _Jeannie... my baby... my family..._

He went into shock. The major looked around his house. Blood was everywhere and there were five dead bodies in his beautiful home. Things became confusing as he tried to process everything that just happened.

_Wait..._

_Wait..._

Something clicked in his head.

_The kid. What did the kid say? "You think this is funny?"_

_The Hood... he said "You think this is fucking funny?"_

_Jeannie... my wife... my beautiful wife... she asked me why I was smiling?_

He stood up and stumbled into hallway and made his way to the bathroom. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was covered in blood and his hair was a mess, but that wasn't the most shocking part of his appearance. The muscles on his face had been pulled back into what looked like a horrible grin. He hadn't even noticed the pain. _The toxin... the tiny part of the toxin that went into my foot..._

It was too much. The horrendous events of the night played in his head as he stared fascinated at his own horrible reflection. The first giggle escaped his lips quickly and unexpectedly. He covered his mouth with his hands, surprised at himself. The second giggle came out. And another. And another. He dropped his hands as he began giggling uncontrollably. The man who would soon be called the Joker started laughing hysterically.

He finally got the joke.


End file.
